t 


THE    BONDWOMAN 


THE 
BONDWOMAN 


BY 


MARAH   ELLIS  RYAN, 


AUTHOR   OF 


"TOLD    IN    THE    HlLLS," 

"A  PAGAN  OF   THE  ALLEGHANIES," 
ETC. 


CHICAGO   AND   NEW   YORK: 

RAND,  McNALLY  &  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1899,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 
All  rights  reserved. 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London. 


THE   BONDWOMAN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Near  Moret,  in  France,  where  the  Seine  is  formed  and 
flows  northward,  there  lives  an  old  lady  named  Madame 
Blanc,  who  can  tell  much  of  the  history  written  here — 
though  it  be  a  history  belonging  more  to  American  lives 
than  French.  She  was  of  the  Caron  establishment  when 
Judithe  first  came  into  the  family,  and  has  charge  of  a  home 
for  aged  ladies  of  education  and  refinement  whose  means 
will  not  allow  of  them  providing  for  themselves.  It  is  a 
memorial  founded  by  her  adopted  daughter  and  is  known 
as  the  Levigne  Pension.  The  property  on  which  it  is  es 
tablished  is  the  little  Levigne  estate — the  one  forming  the 
only  dowery  of  Judithe  Levigne  when  she  married  Philip 
Alain — Marquis  de  Caron. 

There  is  also  a  bright-eyed,  still  handsome  woman  of  ma 
ture  years,  who  lives  in  our  South  and  has  charge  of  another 
memorial — or  had  until  recently — a  private  industrial  school 
for  girls  of  her  own  selection.  She  calls  herself  a  Creole  of 
San  Domingo,  and  she  also  calls  herself  Madame  Trouvelot 
— she  has  been  married  twice  since  she  was  first  known  by 
that  name,  for  she  was  never  the  woman  to  live  alone — 
not  she ;  but  while  the  men  in  themselves  suited  her,  their 
names  were  uncompromisingly  plain — did  not  attract  her 
at  all.  She  married  them,  proved  a  very  good  wife,  but  while 
one  was  named  Johnson,  and  another  Tuttle,  the  good  wife 


2  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

persisted  in  being  called  Madame  Trouvelot,  either  through 
sentiment  or  a  bit  of  irony  towards  the  owner  of  that  name. 
But,  despite  her  vanities,  her  coquetries,  and  certain  erratic 
phases  of  her  life,  she  was  absolutely  faithful  to  the  trust 
reposed  in  her  by  the  Marquise ;  and  who  so  capable  as  her 
self  of  finding  the  poor  girls  who  stood  most  in  need  of  train 
ing  and  the  shelter  of  charity  ?  She,  also,  could  add  to  this 
history  of  the  woman  belonging  both  to  the  old  world  and 
the  new.  There  are  also  official  records  in  evidence  of  much 
that  is  told  here — deeds  of  land,  bills  of  sale,  with  dates  of 
marriages  and  deaths  interwoven,  changed  as  to  names  and 
places  but — 

There  are  social  friends — gay,  pleasure-loving  people  on 
both  sides  of  the  water — who  could  speak,  and  some  men 
who  will  never  forget  her. 

One  of  them,  Kenneth  McVeigh,  he  was  only  Lieutenant 
McVeigh  then! — saw  her  first  in  Paris — heard  of  her  first 
at  a  musicale  in  the  salon  of  Madame  Choudey.  Madame 
Choudey  was  the  dear  friend  of  the  Countess  Helene 
Biron,  who  still  lives  and  delights  in  recitals  of  gossip  be 
longing  to  the  days  of  the  Second  Empire.  The  Countess 
Helene  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  had  been  school  friends  in  Paris. 
Mrs.  McVeigh  had  been  Claire  Villanenne,  of  New  Or 
leans,  in  those  days.  At  seventeen  she  had  married  a  Col. 
McVeigh,  of  Carolina.  At  forty  she  had  been  a  widow  ten 
years.  Was  the  mother  of  a  daughter  aged  twelve,  and  a 
six-foot  son  of  twenty-two,  who  looked  twenty-five,  and 
had  just  graduated  from  West  Point. 

As  he  became  of  special  interest  to  more  than  one  person 
in  this  story,  it  will  be  in  place  to  give  an  idea  of  him  as  he 
appeared  in  those  early  days ; — an  impetuous  boy  held  in 
check,  somewhat,  by  military  discipline  and  his  height — 
he  measured  six  feet  at  twenty — and  also  by  the  fact  that  his 
mother  had  persisted  in  looking  on  him  as  the  head  of  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  3 

family  at  an  age  when  most  boys  are  care-free  of  such  re 
sponsibilities. 

But  the  responsibilities  had  a  very  good  effect  in  many 
ways — giving  stability  and  seriousness  to  a  nature  prone, 
most  of  all,  to  pleasure-loving  if  left  untrammelled.  His 
blue  eyes  had  a  slumberous  warmth  in  them ;  when  he  smiled 
they  half  closed  and  looked  down  on  you  caressingly,  and 
their  expression  proved  no  bar  to  favor  with  the  opposite 
sex.  The  fact  that  he  had  a  little  mother  who  leaned  on  him 
and  whom  he  petted  extravagantly,  just  as  he  did  his  sister, 
gave  him  a  manner  towards  women  in  general  that  was  both 
protecting  and  deferential — a  combination  productive  of 
very  decided  results.  He  was  intelligent  without  being  in 
tellectual,  had  a  very  clear  appreciation  of  the  advantages 
of  being  born  a  McVeigh,  proud  and  jealous  where  fam 
ily  honor  was  concerned,  a  bit  of  an  autocrat  through  being 
master  over  extensive  tracts  of  land  and  slaves  by  the  dozen, 
many  of  them  the  descendents  of  Africans  bought  into  the 
family  from  New  England  traders  four  generations  before. 

Such  was  the  personality  of  the  young  American  as  he  ap 
peared  that  day  at  Madame  Choudey's ;  and  he  looked  like 
one  of  the  pictured  Norse  sea  kings  as  he  towered,  sallow 
and  bronzed,  back  of  the  vivacious  Frenchmen  and  their 
neighbors  of  the  Latin  races. 

The  solo  of  the  musicale  had  just  ended.  People  were 
thronged  about  the  artiste,  and  others  were  congratulating 
Madame  Choudey  on  her  absolute  success  in  assembling 
talent. 

"All  celebrities,  my  lad,"  remarked  Fitzgerald  Delaven 
as  he  looked  around.  The  Delavens  and  the  McVeighs  had 
in  time  long  past  some  far-out  relationship,  and  on  the 
strength  of  it  the  two  young  men,  meeting  thus  in  a  foreign 
country,  became  at  once  friends  and  brothers  ; — "all  celebri 
ties  and  no  one  so  insignificant  as  ourselves  in  sight.  Well, 


4  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

.  now ! — when  one  has  to  do  the  gallant  to  an  ugly  woman  it 
is  a  compensation  to  know  she  is  wondrous  wise." 

"That  depends  on  the  man  who  is  doing  the  gallant,"  re 
turned  the  young  officer,  "I  have  not  yet  got  beyond  the 
point  where  I  expect  them  all  to  be  pretty." 

"Faith,  Lieutenant,  that  is  because  your  American  girls 
are  all  so  pretty  they  spoil  you! — and  by  the  same  token 
your  mother  is  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  room." 

The  tall  young  fellow  glanced  across  the  chattering 
groups  to  where  the  handsomest  woman  was  amusing  her 
self. 

She  certainly  was  handsome — a  blonde  with  chestnut  hair 
and  grey  eyes — a  very  youthful  looking  mother  for  the 
young  officer  to  claim.  She  met  his  glance  and  smiled  as  he 
noticed  her  very  courtier-like  attendant  of  the  moment,  and 
raised  his  brows  quizzically. 

"Yes,  I  feel  that  I  am  only  a  hanger-on  to  mother  since 
we  reached  France,"  he  confessed.  "My  French  is  of  the 
sort  to  be  exploited  only  among  my  intimates,  and  luckily 
all  my  intimates  know  English." 

"Anglo-Saxon,"  corrected  Delaven,  and  Lieutenant  Mc 
Veigh  dropped  his  hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder  and 
laughed. 

"You  wild  Irishman! — why  not  emphasize  your  preju 
dices  by  unearthing  the  Celtic  and  expressing  yourself  in 
that?" 

"Sure,  if  I  did  I  should  not  call  it  the  Irish  language," 
retorted  the  man  from  Dublin. 

They  both  used  the  contested  tongue,  and  were  evidently 
the  only  ones  in  the  room  who  did.  All  about  them  were  the 
softened  syllables  of  France — so  provocative,  according  to 
Lord  Lytton,  of  the  tender  sentiments,  if  not  of  the  tender 
passion. 

"There  is  Dumaresque,  now,"  remarked  Delaven.     "We 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  5 

are  to  see  his  new  picture,  you  know,  at  the  Marquise  de 
Caron's ; — excuse  me  a  moment,"  and  he  crossed  over  to  the 
artist,  who  had  just  entered. 

Kenneth  McVeigh  stood  alone  surveying  the  strange 
faces  about.  He  had  not  been  in  France  long  enough  to 
be  impervious  to  the  atmosphere  of  novelty  in  everything 
seen  and  heard. 

Back  of  him  the  soft  voice  of  Madame  Choudey,  the 
hostess,  could  be  heard.  She  was  frankly  gossiping  and 
laughing  a  little.  The  name  of  the  Marquise  de  Caron  was 
mentioned.  Delaven  had  told  him  of  her — an  aristocrat  and 
an  eccentric — a  philanthropist  who  was  now  aged.  For 
years  herself  and  her  son  had  been  the  patrons — the  good 
angels  of  struggling  genius,  of  art  in  every  form.  But  the 
infamous  2d  of  December  had  ended  all  that.  He  was  one  of 
the  "provisionally  exiled ;"  he  had  died  in  Rome.  Madame 
La  Marquise,  the  dowager  Marquise  now,  was  receiving 
again,  said  the  gossips  back  of  him.  The  fact  was  com 
mented  on  with  wonder  by  Madame  Choudey ; — with  won 
der,  frank  queries,  and  wild  surmises,  by  the  little  group 
around  her ;  for  the  aged  Marquise  and  her  son  Alain — dead 
a  year  since — had  been  picturesque  figures  in  their  own  cir 
cle  where  politics  and  art,  literature  and  religion,  met  and 
crossed  swords,  or  played  piquet !  And  now  she  was  com 
ing  back,  not  only  to  Paris,  but  to  society ;  had  in  fact,  ar 
rived,  and  the  card  Madame  Choudey  held  in  her  white 
dimpled  hand  announced  the  first  reception  at  the  Caron 
establishment. 

"After  years  of  the  country  and  Rome !"  and  Sidonie  Mer- 
son  raised  her  infantile  brows  and  smiled. 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  quite  true — though  so  strange;  we  fan 
cied  her  settled  for  life  in  her  old  vine-covered  villa;  no 
one  expected  to  see  the  Paris  house  opened  after  Alain's 
death." 


6  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"It  is  always  the  unexpected  in  which  the  old  Marquise 
delights,"  said  big  Lavergne,  the  sculptor,  who  had  joined 
Sidonie  in  the  window. 

"Then  how  she  must  have  reveled  in  Alain's  marriage — a 
death-bed  marriage!" 

"Yes;  and  to  an  Italian  girl  without  a  dot." 

"Italian !    I  heard  it  was  an  English  or  American !" 

"Surely,  not  so  bad  as  that !" 

"Oh — it  is  quite  possible.  The  marriage  was  in  Rome. 
Both  the  English  and  Americans  go  to  Rome." 

"But  only  those  who  have  money ; — or,  if  they  have  not 
the  money,  our  sons  and  our  brothers  do  not  marry  them." 

"Good !"  and  Lavergne  nodded  with  mock  sagacity.  "We 
reach  conclusions;  the  newly  made  Marquise  de  Caron  is 
either  not  Anglo-Saxon  or  was  not  without  wealth." 

"I  heard  from  Dumaresque  that  she  had  attended  English 
schools ;  that  no  doubt  gives  her  the  English  suggestion." 

"Oh,  I  know  more  than  that ;"  said  another,  eager  to  add 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  group.  Between  Fontainbleau 
and  Moret  is  the  Levigne  chateau.  Two  years  ago  the 
dowager  was  there  with  a  young  beauty,  Judithe  Levigne, 
and  that  is  the  girl  Alain  married ;  the  dowager  was  also  a 
Levigne,  and  the  girl  an  adopted  daughter." 

"What  is  she  like  now?    Has  no  one  seen  her?" 

"No  one  more  worldly  than  her  confessor — if  she  possess 
one,  or  the  nuns  of  the  convent  to  which  she  returned  to 
study  after  her  marriage  and  widowhood." 

"Heavens !  We  must  compose  our  features  when  we 
enter  the  presence !'' 

"But  we  will  go,  for  all  that!  The  dowager  is  too  de 
lightful  to  miss." 

"A  religieuse  and  a  blue  stocking !"  and  the  smile  of  Le- 
vergne  was  accompanied  by  a  doubtful  shrug.  "I  might 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  7 

devote  myself  to  either,  if  apart,  but  never  to  both  in  one. 
Is  she  then  ugly  that  she  dare  be  so  superior  ?" 

"Greek  and  Latin  did  not  lessen  the  charm  of  Heloise 
for  Abelard,  Monsieur." 

Sidonie  glanced  consciously  out  of  the  window.  Even 
the  dust  of  six  centuries  refuses  to  cover  the  passion  of 
Heloise,  and  despite  the  ecclesiastical  flavor  of  the  romance 
— demoniselles  were  not  supposed  to  be  aware — still — ! 

Lavergne  beckoned  to  a  fair  slight  man  near  the  piano. 

"We  will  ask  Loris — Loris  Dumaresque.  He  is  god-son 
of  the  dowager.  He  was  in  Rome  also.  He  will  know." 

"Certainly ;"  and  Madame  Choudey  glanced  in  the  mirror 
opposite  and  leaned  her  cheek  on  her  jeweled  hand,  the 
lace  fell  from  her  pretty  wrist  and  the  effect  was  rather 
pleasing.  "Loris ;  ah,  pardon  me,  since  your  last  canvas  is 
the  talk  of  Paris  we  must  perhaps  say  Monsieur  Dumar 
esque,  or  else — Master." 

"The  queen  calls  no  man  master,"  replied  the  new  comer 
as  he  bent  over  the  pretty  coquette's  hand.  "The  humblest 
of  your  subjects  salutes  you." 

"My  faith!  You  have  not  lost  in  Rome  a  single  charm 
of  the  boulevardes.  We  feared  you  would  come  back  a 
devotee,  and  addicted  to  rosaries." 

"I  only  needed  them  when  departing  from  Paris — and 
you."  His  eyes  alone  expressed  the  final  words,  but  they 
spoke  so  eloquently  that  the  woman  of  the  world  smiled ; 
attempted  to  blush,  and  dropping  her  own  eyes,  failed  to 
see  the  amusement  in  his. 

"Your  gallantry  argues  no  lack  of  practice,  Monsieur 
Loris,"  she  returned ;  glancing  at  him  over  her  fan.  "Who 
was  she,  during  those  months  of  absence  ?  Come ;  confess ; 
was  she  some  worldly  soul  like  the  Kora  of  your  latest  pic 
ture,  or  was  it  the  religieuse — the  new  marquise  about 
whom  every  one  is  curious?" 


8  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"The  Marquise  ?    What  particular  Marquise  ?" 

"One  more  particular  than  you  were  wont  to  cultivate  our 
first  season  in  Rome,"  remarked  Lavergne. 

"Oh !  oh !  Monsieur  Dumaresque !"  and  the  fan  became  a 
shield  from  which  Madame  peered  at  him.  Sidonie  almost 
smiled,  but  recovered  herself,  and  gave  attention  to  the 
primroses. 

"You  see! — Madame  Choudey  is  shocked  that  you  have 
turned  to  saintliness." 

"Madame  knows  me  too  well  to  suppose  I  have  ever 
turned  away  from  it,"  retorted  Dumaresque.  "Do  not  credit 
the  gossip  of  Lavergne.  He  has  worked  so  long  among 
clays  and  marbles  that  he  has  grown  a  cold-blooded  cynic. 
He  distrusts  all  warmth  and  color  in  life." 

"Then  why  not  introduce  him  to  the  Marquise?  He 
might  find  his  ideal  there — the  atmosphere  of  the  sanctuary ! 
I  mean  the  new  Marquise  de  Caron." 

"Oh !"  Dumaresque  looked  from  one  to  the  other  blankly 
and  then  laughed.  "It  is  Madame  Alain — the  Marquise  de 
Caron  you  call  the  devotee  ?  My  faith — that  is  droll !" 

"What,  then,  is  so  droll?" 

"Why  should  you  laugh,  Monsieur  Loris?  What  else 
were  we  to  think  of  a  bride  who  chooses  a  convent  in  pref 
erence  to  society  ?" 

"It  was  decided  she  must  be  very  ugly  or  very  devout  to 
make  that  choice." 

"A  natural  conclusion  from  your  point  of  view,"  agreed 
Dumaresque.  "Will  you  be  shocked  when  I  tell  you  she  is 
no  less  a  radical  than  Alain  himself? — that  her  favorite 
prophet  is  Voltaire,  and  that  her  books  of  devotion  are  not 
known  in  the  church  ?" 

"Horror ! — an  infidel ! — and  only  a  girl  of  twenty !"  gasped 
the  demure  Sidonie. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  9 

"Chut ! — she  may  be  a  veteran  of  double  that.  Alain  al 
ways  had  a  fancy  for  the  grenadiers — the  originals.  But  of 
course,"  he  added  moodily,  "we  must  go." 

"Take  cheer,"  laughed  Dumaresque,  "for  I  shall  be  there ; 
and  I  promise  you  safe  conduct  through  the  gates  when  the 
grenadier  feminine  grows  too  oppressive." 

"Do  you  observe,"  queried  Madame,  slyly,  "that  while 
Monsieur  Loris  does  speak  of  her  religion,  he  avoids  en 
lightening  us  as  to  her  personality?" 

"What  then  do  you  expect  ?"  returned  Dumaresque.  "She 
is  the  widow  of  my  friend;  the  child,  now,  of  my  dear  old 
god-mother.  Should  I  find  faults  in  her  you  would  say  I 
am  jealous.  Should  I  proclaim  her  virtues  you  would  de 
cide  I  am  prejudiced  by  friendship,  and  so" — with  a  smile 
that  was  conciliating  and  a  gesture  comprehensive  he  dis 
missed  the  subject. 

"Clever  Dumaresque !"  laughed  Lavergne — "well,  we 
shall  see !  Is  it  true  that  your  picture  of  the  Kora  is  to  be 
seen  at  the  dowager's  tomorrow  ?" 

"Quite  true.  It  is  sold,  you  know;  but  since  the  dow 
ager  is  not  equal  to  art  galleries  I  have  given  it  a  rest  in  her 
rooms  before  boxing  it  for  the  new  owner." 

"I  envy  him,"  murmured  Madame ;  "the  picture  is  the 
pretty  octoroon  glorified.  So,  Madame,  your  god-mother 
has  two  novelties  to  present  tomorrow.  Usually  it  is  so 
difficult  to  find  even  one." 

When  Delaven  returned  he  found  Lieutenant  McVeigh 
still  in  the  same  nook  by  the  mantel  and  still  alone. 

"Well,  you  are  making  a  lonesome  time  of  it  in  the  middle 
of  the  crowd,"  he  remarked.  "How  have  you  been 
amused  ?" 

"By  listening  to  comments  on  two  pictures,  one  of  a  col 
ored  beauty,  and  one  of  an  atheistical  grand  dame. 

"And  of  the  two?" 


10  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Of  the  two  I  should  fancy  the  last  not  the  least  offen 
sive.  And,  look  here,  Delaven,  just  get  me  out  of  that  en 
gagement  to  look  at  Dumaresque's  new  picture,  won't  you  ? 
It  really  is  not  worth  while  for  an  American  to  come  abroad 
for  the  study  of  pictured  octoroons — we  have  too  many  of 
the  originals  at  home." 


CHAPTER  II. 

Whatever  the  dowager's  eccentricities  or  heresies,  she 
was  not  afraid  of  the  sunlight,  figuratively  or  literally.  From 
floor  to  ceiling  three  great  windows  let  in  softened  rays  on 
the  paneled  walls,  on  the  fluted  columns  of  white  and  gold, 
and  on  the  famous  frescoes  of  the  First  Empire.  She  had  no 
feeling  for  petite  apartments  such  as  appeal  to  many  women ; 
there  must,  for  her,  be  height  and  space  and  long  vistas. 

"I  like  perspective  to  every  picture,"  she  said.  "I  enjoy 
the  groupings  of  my  friends  in  my  own  rooms  more  than 
elsewhere.  From  my  couch  I  have  the  best  point  of  view, 
and  the  raised  dais  flatters  me  with  its  suggestion  of  a  throne 
of  state." 

She  looked  so  tiny  for  a  chair  of  state ;  and  with  her  usual 
quaint  humor  she  recognized  the  fact. 

"But  my  temperament  brings  me  an  affinity  with  things 
that  are  great  for  all  that,"  she  would  affirm.  "One  does  not 
need  to  be  a  physical  Colossus  in  order  to  see  the  stars." 

The  morning  after  her  first  reception  she  was  smiling 
rather  sardonically  at  a  picture  at  the  far  end  of  the 
great  salon — that  of  a  very  handsome  young  woman  who 
laughed  frankly  at  the  man  who  leaned  towards  her  and 
spoke.  The  man  was  Dumaresque. 

"No  use  in  that,  Loris,"  commented  his 'god-mother,  out 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  11 

of  his  hearing.  "It  will  do  an  artist  no  harm,  but  it  will  end 
nowhere." 

Their  attitude  and  their  youth  did  make  them  appear  sen 
timental  ;  but  they  were  not  really  so.  He  was  only  telling 
her  what  a  shock  she  had  been  to  those  Parisians  the  day 
before. 

"I  understand,  now,  the  regard  of  Madame  Choudey  and 
her  pretty,  prim  niece,  Sidonie.  They  will  never  forgive 
me." 

"You,  Madame!" 

"Me,  Monsieur.  Their  fondness  will  preclude  resentment 
towards  you,  but  against  myself  they  will  feel  a  grievance 
that  I  am  not  as  they  pictured  me.  Come;  you  must  tell 
Maman." 

The  dowager  nodded  as  one  who  understood  it  all. 

"They  will  not  forget  you,  that  is  sure,"  she  said,  smiling ; 
but  the  girl — for  she  was  only  a  girl,  despite  the  Madame — 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Myself,  I  care  little  for  their  remembrance,"  she  replied, 
indifferently;  "they  were  only  curious,  not  interested,  I 
could  see." 

"You  put  my  picture  in  the  shadow  at  all  events,"  pro 
tested  Dumaresque,  pointing  to  a  large  canvas  hung  op 
posite;  "my  picture  over  which  art  lovers  raved  until  you 
appeared  as  a  rival." 

"How  extravagant  you  are,  Monsieur  Dumaresque,  a 
true  Gascon !  To  think  of  rivaling  that !" 

As  she  faced  the  canvas  the  dowager  watched  her  criti 
cally,  and  nodded  her  approval  to  Dumaresque,  who  smiled 
and  acquiesced.  Evidently  they  were  both  well  satisfied 
with  the  living  picture  of  the  salon. 

The  new  Marquise  de  Caron  had  lived,  probably,  twenty 
years.  She  was  of  medium  height,  with  straight,  dark  brows, 
and  dark,  long-lashed  eyes.  The  eyes  had  none  of  the  shy- 


12  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ness  that  was  deemed  a  necessity  to  beauty  in  that  era  of 
balloon  skirts  and  scuttle  bonnets  under  which  beauty  of 
the  conventional  order  hid. 

But  that  she  was  not  conventional  was  shown  by  the  tur 
ban  of  grey  resting  on  her  waved,  dark  hair,  while  the  veil 
falling  from  it  and  mingling  with  the  folds  of  her  dress,  sug 
gested  the  very  artistic  draperies  of  the  nuns. 

Not  a  particle  of  color  was  in  her  apparel,  and  but  little 
in  her  face ;  only  the  lips  had  that  thread  of  scarlet  sung  of 
by  Solomon,  and  the  corners  of  them  curved  upwards  a  trifle 
as  she  surveyed  the  canvas. 

The  turban  was  loosened  and  held  in  her  hands  as  she 
stood  there  looking.  The  picture  evidently  attracted  her, 
though  it  did  not  please.  At  last  she  turned  to  the  artist. 

"Why  do  you  paint  pictures  like  that?" 

"Like  that  ?    Pouf !    You  mean  beautiful  ?" 

"No,  it  is  not  beautiful,"  she  said,  thoughtfully,  as  she 
seated  herself  on  the  dais  by  the  dowager's  couch.  "To  be 
truly  beautiful  a  thing  must  impress  one  with  a  sense  of  fit 
ness  to  our  highest  perceptive  faculties.  A  soulless  thing  is 
never  beautiful." 

"What  then,  of  dogs,  horses,  lions,  the  many  art  works 
in  metal  or  on  canvas?" 

"You  must  not  raise  that  wall  against  her  words,  Loris, 
unless  you  wish  to  quarrel,"  said  the  dowager  in  friendly 
warning.  "Judithe  is  pantheist  enough  to  fancy  that  animals 
have  souls." 

"But  the  true  artist  does  not  seek  to  portray  the  lowest 
expression  of  that  soul,"  persisted  Dumaresque's  critic. 
"Across  the  Atlantic  there  are  thousands  who  contend  that 
a  woman  such  as  this  Kora  whom  you  paint,  has  no  soul 
because  of  the  black  blood  in  her  veins.  They  think  of  the 
dark  people  as  we  think  of  apes.  It  is  all  a  question  of  longi 
tude,  Monsieur  Dumaresque.  The  crudeness  of  America  is 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  13 

the  jest  of  France.  The  wisdom  of  France  is  the  lightest 
folly  of  the  Brahims ;  and  so  it  goes  ever  around  the  world. 
The  soul  of  that  girl  will  weigh  as  heavily  as  ours  in  the 
judgment  that  is  final;  but,  in  the  meantime,  why  teach  it 
and  others  to  admire  all  that  allurement  of  evil  showing  in 
her  eyes  as  she  looks  at  you  ?" 

"Judithe!"  protested  the  dowager. 

"Oh ! — I  do  not  doubt  in  the  least,  Maman,  that  the 
woman  Kora  looked  just  so  when  she  sat  for  the  picture," 
conceded  the  girl;  "but  why  not  endeavor  to  awaken  a 
higher,  stronger  expression,  and  paint  that,  showing  the 
better  possibilities  within  her  than  mere  seductiveness  ?" 

"What  fervor  and  what  folly,  Marquise!"  cried  Dumar- 
esque.  It  is  a  speech  of  folly  only  because  it  is  I  whom  you 
ask  to  be  the  missionary,  and  because  it  is  the  pretty  Kora 
you  would  ask  me  to  convert — and  to  what  ?  Am  I  so  per 
fect  in  all  ways  that  I  dare  preach,  even  with  paint  and 
brush  ?  Heavens !  I  should  have  all  Paris  laughing  at  me." 

"But  Judithe  would  not  have  you  that  sort  of  extremist," 
said  the  dowager,  laughing  at  the  dismay  in  his  face.  "She 
knows  you  do  well ;  only  she  fears  you  do  not  exert  your 
self  enough  to  perceive  how  you  might  do  better." 

"She  forgets ;  I  did  once ;  only  a  few  weeks  ago,"  he  said 
briefly ;  and  the  girl  dropped  her  hands  wearily  and  leaned 
her  head  against  the  dowager's  couch. 

"Maman,  our  good  friend  is  going  to  talk  •  matrimony 
again,"  she  said  plaintively;  "and  if  he  does,  I  warn  you, 
though  it  is  only  mid-day,  I  shall  go  asleep ;"  and  her  eyes 
closed  tightly  as  though  to  make  the  threat  more  effective. 

"You  see,"  said  the  old  lady,  raising  one  chiding  finger , 
"it  is  really  lamentable,  Loris,  that  your  sentimental  tenden 
cies  have  grown  into  a  steady  habit." 

"I  agree,"  he  assented ;  "but  consider.  She  assails  me — 
a 


14  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she,  a  saintly  little  judge  in  grey!  She  lectures,  preaches  at 
me !  Tells  me  I  lack  virtue !  But  more  is  the  pity  for  me ; 
she  will  not  remember  that  one  virtue  was  most  attractive  to 
me,  and  she  bade  me  abandon  it." 

"Tell  him,"  said  the  girl  with  her  eyes  still  closed,  "to  not 
miscall  things ;  no  one  is  all  virtue." 

"Pardon ;  that  is  what  you  seemed  to  me,  and  I  never 
before  fancied  that  the  admirable  virtues  would  find  me 
so  responsive,  when,  pouf!  with  one  word  you  demolished 
all  my  castle  of  delight  and  now  condemn  me  that  I  am 
an  outlaw  from  those  elevating  fancies." 

He  spoke  with  such  a  comical  air  of  self-pity  that  the  old 
lady  laughed  and  the  young  Marquise  opened  her  eyes. 

"A  truce,  Monsieur  Loris ;  you  are  amusing,  but  you  like 
to  pose  as  one  of  the  rejected  and  disconsolate  when  you 
have  women  to  listen.  It  is  all  because  you  are  just  a  little 
theatrical,  is  it  not?  How  effective  it  must  be  with  your 
Parisiennes !" 

"My  faith !"  he  exclaimed,  turning  to  the  dowager  in  dis 
may  ;  "and  only  three  months  since  she  emerged  from  the 
convent!  What  then  do  they  not  teach  in  those  sanctu 
aries  !" 

The  girl  arose,  made  him  a  mocking  obeisance,  and 
swinging  the  turban  in  her  hand  passed  into  the  alcoved 
music  room ;  a  little  later  an  Italian  air,  soft,  dreamy,  drifted 
to  them  from  the  keys  of  the  piano. 

"She  will  make  a  sensation,"  prophesied  Dumaresque, 
sagely. 

"You  mean  socially?  No;  if  left  to  herself  she  would 
ignore  society ;  it  is  not  necessary  to  her ;  only  her  affection 
for  me  brings  her  from  her  studies  now.  Should  I  die  to 
morrow  she  would  go  back  to  them  next  week." 

"But  why,  why,  why  ?  If  she  were  unattractive  one  could 
understand ;  but  being  what  she  is  — " 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  15 

"Being  what  she  is,  she  has  a  fever  to  know  all  the  facts  of 
earth  and  all  the  guesses  at  heaven." 

"And  bars  out  marriage !" 

"Not  for  other  people,"  retorted  the  dowager. 

"But  to  what  use  then  all  these  accomplishments,  all  this 
pursuit  of  knowledge?  Does  she  mean  to  hide  it  all  in 
some  convent  at  last  ?" 

"I  would  look  for  her  rather  among  some  savage  tribes, 
doing  missionary  work." 

"Yes,  making  them  acquainted  with  Voltaire,"  he  said, 
laughingly.  "But  you  are  to  be  envied,  god-mother,  in 
having  her  all  to  yourself ;  she  adores  you !" 

The  dark  old  face  flushed  slightly,  and  the  keen  eyes 
softened  with  pleasure. 

"It  was  Alain's  choice,  and  it  was  a  good  one,"  she  said, 
briefly.  "What  of  the  English  people  you  asked  to  bring 
today?" 

"They  are  not  English ;  one  is  American  and  one  is  Irish." 

"True ;  but  their  Anglo-Saxon  makes  them  all  English  to 
me.  I  hear  there  are  so  many  of  them  in  Paris  now ;  Com- 
tesse  Biron  brings  one  today ;  there  is  her  message,  what  is 
the  name  ?" 

Dumaresque  unfolded  the  pink  sheet,  glanced  at  it  and 
smiled. 

"My  faith ;  it  is  the  mother  of  the  young  lieutenant  whom 
I  asked  to  bring,  Madame  McVeigh.  So,  she  was  a  school 
friend  of  the  Comtesse  Helene,  eh?  That  seems  strange; 
still,  this  Madame  McVeigh  may  be  a  French  woman  trans 
planted." 

"I  do  not  know;  but  it  will  be  a  comfort  if  she  speaks 

French.     The  foreigners  of  only  one  language  are  trying." 
***** 

Mrs.  McVeigh  offered  no  linguistic  difficulties  to  the 
dowager  who  was  charmed  with  her  friend's  friend. 


16  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"But  you  are  surely  not  the  English-Americans  of  whom 
we  see  so  much  these  days?  I  cannot  think  it." 

"No,  Madame.  I  am  of  the  French- Americans — the 
Creoles — hence  the  speech  you  are  pleased  to  approve.  My 
people  were  the  Villanennes  of  Louisiana." 

"Ah!  a  Creole?  The  Creoles  come  here  from  the  West 
Indies  also — beautiful  women.  My  daughter  has  had  some 
as  school  friends ;  only  this  morning  she  was  explaining  to 
an  English  caller  the  difference  between  a  Creole  and  that 
personality ;"  and  the  dowager  waived  her  hand  towards  the 
much  discussed  picture  of  Kora. 

The  fine  face  of  the  American  woman  took  on  a  trace  of 
haughtiness,  and  she  glanced  at  the  speaker  as  though  alert 
to  some  covert  insult.  The  unconsciousness  in  the  old  face 
reassured  her,  though  she  could  not  quite  banish  coldness 
from  her  tones  as  she  replied : 

"I  should  not  think  such  an  explanation  necessary  in  en 
lightened  circles ;  the  Creole  is  so  well  known  as  the  Ameri 
can  born  of  the  Latin  races,  while  that,"  with  a  gesture 
towards  the  oriental  face  on  the  canvas,  "is  the  offspring 
of  the  African  race — our  slaves." 

"With  occasionally  a  Caucasian  father,"  suggested  the 
dowager  wickedly.  "I  have  never  seen  this  new  idol  of  the 
ballet — Kora ;  but  her  prettiness  is  the  talk  of  the  studios, 
though  she  does  not  deny  she  came  from  your  side  of  the 
sea,  and  has  the  shadows  of  Africa  in  her  hair." 

"A  quadroon  or  octoroon,  no  doubt.  It  appears  strange  to 
find  the  outcasts  of  the  States  elected  to  that  sort  of  notice 
over  here — as  though  the  old  world,  tired  of  civilization 
and  culture,  turned  for  distraction  to  the  barbarians." 

"Barbarians,  indeed!"  laughed  the  Countess  Biron — the 
Countess  Helene,  as  she  was  called  by  her  friends.  She 
laughed  a  great  deal,  knew  a  great  deal,  and  never  forgot  a 
morsel  of  Parisian  gossip.  "This  barbarian  has  only  to 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  17 

show  herself  on  the  boulevards  and  all  good  citizens  crane 
their  necks  for  a  glimpse  of  her.  The  empress  herself  at 
tracts  less  attention." 

The  dowager  clicked  the  lid  of  her  snuff  box  and 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"That  Spanish  woman — tah!  As  Mademoiselle  d' Indus 
trie  I  do  not  see  why  she  should  claim  precedence.  The 
blonde  Spaniard  is  no  more  beautiful  than  the  brown  Ameri 
can." 

"For  all  that,  Louis  Napoleon  has  placed  her  among  the 
elect,"  remarked  the  Countess  Helene,  with  a  mischievous 
glance  towards  the  Marquise,  each  understanding  that  the 
mention  of  the  Second  Empire  was  like  a  call  to  war,  in  that 
salon. 

"Louis !"  and  the  dowager  shrugged  her  shoulder,  and 
made  a  gesture  of  contempt.  "That  accident !  What  is  he 
that  any  one  should  be  exalted  by  his  favor  ?  Mademoiselle 
de  Montijo  was — for  the  matter  of  that — his  superior !  Her 
family  had  place  and  power ;  her  paternity  was  undisputed ; 
but  this  Louis — tah !  There  was  but  one  Bonaparte ;  that 
subaltern  from  Corsica ;  that  meteor.  He  was,  with  all  his 
faults,  a  worker,  a  thinker,  an  original.  He  would  have 
swept  into  the  sea  the  envious  islanders  across  the  channel 
to  whom  this  Bonaparte  truckled — this  man  called  Bona 
parte,  who  was  no  Bonaparte  at  all — a  vulture  instead  of  an 
eagle !" 

So  exclaimed  the  dowager,  who  carried  in  her  memory 
the  picture  of  the  streets  of  Paris  when  neither  women  nor 
children  were  spared  by  the  bullets  and  sabres  of  his  slaugh 
terers — the  hyena  to  whom  the  clergy  so  bowed  down  that 
not  a  mass  for  the  dead  patriots  could  be  secured  in  Paris, 
from  either  priest  or  archbishop,  and  the  Republicans  piled 
in  the  streets  by  hundreds ! 


18  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  turned  in  some  dismay  to  the  Countess 
Helene.  The  people  of  the  Western  world,  the  women  in 
particular,  knew  little  of  the  bitter  spirit  permeating  the 
politics  of  France.  The  United  States  had  very  knotty 
problems  of  her  own  to  discuss  in  1859. 

"Tah !"  continued  the  dowager,  "I  startle  you !  Well, 
well — it  profits  nothing  to  recite  these  ills.  Many  a  man, 
and  woman,  too,  has  been  put  to  death  for  saying  less  ; — and 
the  exile  of  my  son  to  remember — yes ;  all  that !  He  was 
Republican — I  a  Legitimist;  I  of  the  old,  he  of  the  new. 
Republics  are  good  in  theory ;  France  might  have  given  it  a 
longer  trial  but  for  this  trickster  politician,  who  is  called 
Emperor — by  the  grace  of  God !" 

"Do  they  add  'Defender  of  the  Faith'  as  our  cautious  Eng 
lish  neighbors  persist  in  doing?"  asked  the  girlish  Marquise 
with  a  smile.  "Your  country,  Madame  McVeigh,  has  no  such 
cant  in  its  constitution.  You  Tiave  reason  to  be  proud  of 
the  great  men,  the  wise,  far-seeing  men,  who  framed  those 
laws." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  and  sighed  in  self-pity. 

"How  frivolous  American  women  will  appear  to  you, 
Madame!  Few  of  us  ever  read  the  constitution  of  our 
country.  I  confess  I  only  know  the  first  line :'- — 'When  in  the 
course  of  human  events  it  becomes  necessary,'  but  what  they 
thought  necessary  to  do  is  very  vague  in  my  mind." 

Then,  catching  the  glance  of  the  Marquise  bright  with 
laughter,  she  laughed  also  without  knowing  well  at  what. 

"Well;  what  is  it?" 

"Only  that  you  are  quoting  from  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence,  and  fancy  it  the  constitution." 

"That  is  characteristic  of  American  women,  too,"  laughed 
Mrs.  McVeigh ;  "declarations  of  independence  is  one  of  our 
creeds.  But  I  shall  certainly  be  afraid  of  you,  Marquise. 
At  your  age  the  learning  and  comparing  of  musty  laws 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  19 

would  have  been  dull  work  for  me.  It  is  the  age  for  danc 
ing  and  gay  carelessness." 

The  Marquise  smiled  assent  with  her  curious,  dark  eyes, 
in  which  amber  lights  shown.  She  had  a  certain  appealing 
meekness  at  times — a  sweet  deference  that  was  a  marked 
contrast  to  the  aggressiveness  with  which  she  had  met  Du- 
maresqne  in  the  morning.  The  Countess  Helene,  observ 
ing  the  deprecating  manner  with  which  she  received  the  im 
plied  praise  for  erudition,  found  herself  watching  with  a 
keener  interest  the  girl  who  had  seemed  to  her  a  mere  pretty 
book-worm. 

"She  is  more  than  that,"  thought  the  astute  worldling. 
"Alain's  widow  has  a  face  for  tragedy,  the  address  of  an 
ingenue,  and  the  tout  en  semble  of  a  coquette." 

The  dowager  smiled  at  Mrs.  McVeigh's  remarks. 

"She  cares  too  little  for  dancing,  the  natural  expression  of 
healthy  young  animalism  ;  but  what  can  I  do  ? — nothing  less 
frivolous  than  a  salon  a-la-Madame  D'Agoult  is  among  her 
ambitions." 

"Let  us  persuade  her  to  visit  America,"  suggested  Mrs. 
McVeigh.  "I  can,  at  least,  prescribe  a  change  promising 
more  of  joyous  festivity — life  on  a  Carolina  plantation." 

"What  delight  for  her!  she  loves  travel  and  new  scenes. 
Indeed,  Alain,  my  son,  has  purchased  a  property  in  your 
land,  and  some  day  she  may  go  over.  But  for  the  brief 
remnant  of  my  life  I  shall  be  selfish  and  want  her  always  on 
my  side  of  the  ocean.  What,  child  ?  you  pale  at  the  mention 
of  death — tah !  it  is  not  so  bad.  The  old  die  by  installments, 
and  the  last  one  is  not  the  worst." 

"May  it  be  many  years  in  the  future,  Maman,"  murmured 
the  young  Marquise,  whose  voice  betrayed  a  certain  effort 
as  she  continued:  "I  thank  you  for  the  suggestion,  Ma 
dame  McVeigh;  the  property  Maman  refers  to  is  in  New 


20  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Orleans,  and  I  surely  hope  to  see  your  country  some  day ; 
my  sympathies  are  there." 

"We  have  many  French  people  in  the  South;  our  own 
part  of  the  land  was  settled  originally  by  the  cavaliers  of 
France.  You  would  not  feel  like  a  stranger  there." 

"Not  in  your  gracious  neighborhood,  Madame ;" — her 
face  had  regained  its  color,  and  her  eyes  their  brilliant  ex 
pression. 

"And  there  you  would  see  living  pictures  like  this,"  sug 
gested  the  Countess  Helene ;  "what  material  for  an  artist !" 

"Oh,  no ;  in  the  rice  fields  of  South  Carolina  they  do  not 
look  like  that.  We  have  none  of  those  Oriental  effects  in 
dress,  you  know.  Our  colored  women  look  very  sober  in 
comparison ;  still  they  have  their  attractions,  and  might  be 
an  interesting  study  for  you  if  you  have  never  known  col 
ored  folks." 

"Oh,  but  I  have,"  remarked  the  Marquise,  smiling;  "an 
entire  year  of  my  life  was  passed  in  a  school  with  two  from 
Brazil,  and  one  from  your  country  had  run  away  the  same 
season." 

"Judithe ;  child !" 

The  dowager  fairly  gasped  the  words,  and  the  Marquise 
moved  quickly  to  her  side  and  sank  on  the  cushion  at  her 
feet,  looking  up  with  an  assuring  smile,  as  she  caressed  the 
aged  hand. 

"Yes,  it  is  quite  true,"  she  continued ;  "but  see,  J  am  alive 
to  tell  the  tale,  and  really  they  say  the  American  was  a  most 
harmless  little  thing ;  the  poor,  imprisoned  soul." 

"How  strange  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  McVeigh  ;  "do  you  mean 
as  fellow  pupils? — colored  girls!  It  seems  awful." 

"Really,  I  never  thought  of  it  so ;  you  see,  so  many  plant 
ers'  daughters  come  from  the  West  Indies  to  Paris  schools. 
Many  in  feature  and  color  suggest  the  dark  continent,  but 
are  accepted,  nevertheless.  However,  the  girl  I  mention 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  21 

was  not  dark.  Her  mother  had  seven  white  ancestors  to 
one  of  black.  Yet  she  confided  her  story  to  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  she  was  an  American  slave." 

The  dowager  was  plainly  distressed  at  the  direction  of  the 
conversation,  for  the  shock  to  Mrs.  McVeigh  was  so  very 
apparent,  and  as  her  hostess  remembered  that  slavery  was 
threatening  to  become  an  institution  of  uncompromising 
discord  across  the  water,  all  reference  to  it  was  likely  to 
be  unwelcome.  She  pressed  the  fingers  of  the  Marquise 
warningly,  and  the  Marquise  smiled  up  at  her,  but  evidently 
did  not  understand. 

"Can  such  a  thing  be  possible?"  asked  Mrs.  McVeigh,  in 
credulously  ;  "in  that  case  I  shall  think  twice  before  I  send 
my  daughter  here  to  school,  as  I  had  half  intended — and  you 
remained  in  such  an  establishment?" 

"I  had  no  choice ;  my  guardians  decided  those  questions." 

"And  the  faculty — they  allowed  it  ?" 

"They  did  not  know  it.  She  was  represented  as  being 
the  daughter  of  an  American  planter;  which  was  true.  I 
have  reason  to  believe  that  my  friend  was  her  only  con 
fidant." 

"And  for  what  purpose  was  she  educated  in  such  an  es 
tablishment  ?" 

"That  she  might  gain  accomplishments  enhancing  her 
value  as  companion  to  the  man  who  was  to  own  her." 

"Madame!" 

"Marquise!" 

The  two  exclamations  betrayed  how  intent  her  listeners 
were,  and  how  full  of  horror  the  suggestion.  There  was 
even  incredulity  in  the  tones,  an  initiative  protest  against 
such  possibilities.  But  the  Marquise  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  with  unruffled  earnestness. 

"So  it  was  told  to  me,"  she  continued ;  "these  accomplish- 


22  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ments  meant  extra  thousands  to  the  man  who  sold  her,  and 
the  man  was  her  father's  brother." 

"No,  no,  no !"  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  shook  her  head  decid 
edly  to  emphasize  her  conviction.  "I  cannot  believe  that  at 
the  present  day  in  our  country  such  an  arrangement  could 
exist.  No  one,  knowing  our  men,  could  credit  such  a  story. 
In  the  past  century  such  abuses  might  have  existed,  but 
surely  not  now — in  all  my  life  I  have  heard  of  nothing  like 
that." 

"Probably  the  girl  was  romancing,"  agreed  the  Mar 
quise,  with  a  shrug,  "for  you  would  no  doubt  be  aware  if 
such  a  state  of  affairs  had  existence." 

"Certainly." 

"Then  your  men  are  not  so  clever  as  ours,"  laughed  the 
Countess ;  "for  they  manage  many  little  affairs  their  own 
women  never  suspect." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  looked  displeased.  To  her  it  was  not  a 
matter  of  cleverness,  but  of  principle  and  morality ;  and  in 
her  mind  there  was  absolutely  no  comparison  possible  with 
out  jarring  decidedly  on  the  prejudices  of  her  Gallic  friends, 
so  she  let  the  remark  pass  without  comment. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Marquise,  rising,  "when  I  heard  the  story 
cf  the  girl  Rhoda  I  fancied  it  was  one  the  white  mis 
tresses  of  America  seldom  heard." 

"Rhoda?" 

"Yes,  that  was  the  name  the  girl  was  known  by  in  the 
school — Rhoda  Larue — the  Larue  was  a  fiction ;  slaves,  I 
am  told,  having  no  legal  right  to  names." 

"Heavens  !  What  horrors  you  fancy !  Pray  give  us  some 
music  child,  and  drive  away  the  gloomy  pictures  you  have 
suggested." 

"An  easy  penance;"  and  the  Marquise  moved  smilingly 
towards  the  alcove. 

"What !"  cried  the  Countess  Helene,  in  protest,  "and  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  23 

story  unfinished!  Why,  it  might  develop  into  a  romance. 
I  dote  on  romances  in  real  life  or  fiction,  but  I  like  them 
all  spelled  out  for  me  to  the  very  end." 

"Instead  of  a  romance,  I  should  fancy  the  girl's  life  very 
prosaic  wherever  it  is  lived,"  returned  the  Marquise.  "But 
before  her  year  at  the  convent  had  quite  expired  she  made 
her  escape — took  no  one  into  her  confidence;  and  when 
her  guardian,  or  his  agent,  came  to  claim  her,  there  were 
storms,  apologies,  but  no  ward." 

"And  you  do  not  call  that  a  romance  ?"  said  the  Countess. 
"I  do ;  it  offers  all  sorts  of  possibilities." 

"Yes,  the  possibility  of  this ;"  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  pointed 
to  the  picture  before  them.  The  Marquise  halted,  looked  cu 
riously  at  the  speaker,  then  regarded  the  oriental  face  on 
the  canvas  thoughtfully,  and  passed  her  hand  over  her  brow 
with  a  certain  abstraction. 

"I  never  thought  of  that,"  she  said  slowly.  "You  poor 
creature!"  and  she  took  a  step  nearer  the  picture.  "I — 
never — thought  of  that!  Maman,  Madame  McVeigh  has 
just  taught  me  something — to  be  careful,  careful  how  we 
judge  the  unfortunate.  They  say  this  Kora  is  a  light 
woman  in  morals ;  but  suppose — suppose  somewhere  the 
life  that  girl  told  of  in  the  convent  really  does  exist,  and 
suppose  this  pretty  Kora  had  been  one  of  the  victims  chosen ! 
Should  we  dare  then  to  judge  her  by  our  standards,  Mam 
an  ?  I  think  not." 

Without  awaiting  an  opinion  she  walked  slowly  into  the 
alcove,  and  left  the  three  ladies  gazing  at  each  other  with  a 
trifle  of  constraint  mingled  with  their  surprise. 

"Another  sacred  cause  to  fight  for,"  sighed  the  dowager, 
with  a  quaint  grimace.  "Last  week  it  was  the  Jews,  who 
seem  to  me  quite  able  to  take  care  of  themselves !  Next 
week  it  may  be  Hindoo  widows ;  but  just  now  it  is  Kora !" 

"She  should  have  been  born  a  boy  in  the  age  when  it  was 


24  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

thought  a  virtue  to  don  armor  and  do  battle  for  the  weak  or 
incapable ;  that  would  have  suited  Judithe." 

"Not  if  it  was  the  fashion,"  laughed  the  Countess  Helene ; 
"she  would  insist  on  being  original." 

"The  Marquise  has  a  lovely  name,"  remarked  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh  ;  "one  could  not  imagine  a  weak  or  unattractive  per 
son  called  Judithe." 

"No;  they  could  not,"  agreed  her  friend,  "it  makes  one 
think  of  the  tragedy  of  Holofernes.  It  suggests  the  strange, 
the  fascinating,  the  unusual,  and — it  suits  Madame  la 
Marquise." 

"Your  approval  is  an  unconscious  compliment  to  me," 
remarked  the  dowager,  indulging  herself  in  a  tiny  pinch  of 
snuff  and  tapping  the  jeweled  lid  of  the  box;  "I  named 
her." 

"Indeed !"  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  at  the  complacent 
old  lady,  while  the  Countess  Helene  almost  stared.  Evi 
dently  she,  also,  had  heard  the  opinions  concerning  the 
young  widow's  foreign  extraction.  Possibly  the  dowager 
guessed  what  was  passing  in  her  mind,  for  she  nodded 
and  smiled. 

"Truly,  the  eyes  did  it.  Though  she  was  not  so  fully  de 
veloped  as  now,  those  slumbrous,  oriental  eyes  of  hers  sug 
gested  someway  that  beauty  of  Bethulia ;  the  choice  was  left 
to  me  and  so  she  was  christened  Judithe." 

"She  voices  such  startlingly  paganish  ideas  at  times  that  I 
can  scarcely  imagine  her  at  the  christening  font,"  remarked 
the  Countess. 

"In  truth  her  questions  are  hard  to  answer  sometimes. 
But  the  heart  is  all  right." 

"And  the  lady  herself  magnetic  enough  without  the  ad 
ded  suggestion  of  the  name,"  remarked  Mrs.  McVeigh ; 
then  she  held  up  her  finger  as  the  Countess  was  about  to 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  25 

speak,  for  from  the  music  room  came  the  appealing  legato 
notes  of  "Suwanee  River,"  played  with  great  tenderness. 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  the  dowager. 

"One  of  our  American  folk  songs,"  and  the  grey  eyes  of 
the  speaker  were  bright  with  tears ;  "in  all  my  life  I  have 
never  heard  it  played  so  exquisitely." 

"For  a  confirmed  blue  stocking,  the  Marquise  under 
stands  remarkably  well  how  to  make  her  little  compliments," 
said  the  Countess  Helene. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  arose,  and  with  a  slight  bow  to  the  dow 
ager,  passed  into  the  alcove.  At  the  last  bar  of  the  song  a 
shadow  fell  across  the  keys,  and  the  musician  saw  their 
American  visitor  beside  her. 

"I  should  love  to  have  you  see  the  country  whose  music 
you  interpret  so  well,"  she  said  impulsively ;  "I  should  like 
to  be  with  you  when  you  do  see  it." 

"You  are  kind,  and  I  trust  you  may  be,"  replied  the  Mar 
quise,  with  a  pretty  nod  that  was  a  bow  in  miniature.  She 
was  rising  from  the  piano,  when  Mrs.  McVeigh  stopped 
her. 

"Pray  don't !  It  is  a  treat  to  hear  you.  I  only  wanted  to 
ask  you  to  take  my  invitation  seriously  and  come  some  time 
to  our  South  Carolina  home ;  I  should  like  to  be  one  of  your 
friends." 

"It  would  give  me  genuine  pleasure,"  was  the  frank  re 
ply.  "You  know  I  confessed  that  my  sympathies  were  there 
ahead  of  me."  The  smile  accompanying  the  words  was  so 
adorable  that  Mrs.  McVeigh  bent  to  kiss  her. 

The  Marquise  offered  her  cheek  with  a  graciousness  that 
was  a  caress  in  itself,  and  thus  their  friendship  commenced. 

After  the  dowager  and  her  daughter-in-law  were  again 
alone,  and  with  an  assurance  that  even  the  privileged  Du- 
maresque  would  not  break  in  on  their  evening,  the  elder 


26  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

lady  asked,  abruptly,  a  question  over  which  she  had  been 
puzzling. 

"Child,  what  possessed  you  to  tell  to  a  Southern  woman 
of  the  States  that  story  reflecting  on  the  most  vi|al  of  their 
economic  institutions  ?  Had  you  forgotten  their  prejudices  ? 
I  was  in  dread  that  you  might  offend  her,  and  I  am  sure 
Helene  Biron  was  quite  as  nervous." 

"I  did  not  offend  her,  Maman,"  replied  the  Marquise, 
looking  up  from  her  embroidery  with  a  smile,  "and  I  had 
not  forgotten  their  prejudices.  I  only  wanted  to  judge  if 
she  herself  had  ever  heard  the  story." 

"Madame  McVeigh ! — and  why  ?" 

"Because  Rhoda  Larue  was  also  a  native  of  that  particu 
lar  part  of  Carolina  to  which  she  has  invited  me,  and  be 
cause  of  a  fact  which  I  have  never  forgotten,  the  young 
planter  for  whom  she  was  educated — the  slave  owner  who 
bought  her  from  her  father's  brother  was  named  McVeigh. 
My  new  friend  is  delightful  in  herself  but — she  has  a  son." 

"My  child!"  gasped  the  dowager,  staring  at  her.  "Such 
a  man  the  son  of  that  charming,  sincere  woman !  Yes,  I 
had  forgotten  their  name,  and  bid  you  forget  the  story; 
never  speak  of  it  again,  child !" 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  learn  it  is  the  same  family,"  admitted 
the  Marquise ;  "still,  I  shall  make  a  point  of  avoiding  the  son 
until  we  learn  something  about  him.  It  is  infamous  that 
such  men  should  be  received  into  society." 

The  dowager  relapsed  into  silence,  digesting  the  trouble 
some  question  proposed. 

Occasionally  she  glanced  towards  the  Marquise  as  though 
in  expectation  of  a  continuation  of  the  subject.  But  the 
Marquise  was  engrossed  by  her  embroideries,  and  when 
she  did  speak  again  it  was  of  some  entirely  different  matter. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  27 


CHAPTER  III. 

Two  mornings  later  M.  Dumaresque  stood  in  the  Caron 
reception  room  staring  with  some  dissatisfaction  across  the 
breadth  of  green  lawn  where  the  dryad  and  faun  statues 
held  vases  of  vining  and  blooming  things. 

He  had  just  been  told  the  dowager  was  not  yet  to  be 
seen.  That  was  only  what  he  had  expected ;  but  he  had  also 
been  told  that  the  Marquise,  accompanied,  as  usual,  by 
Madame  Blanc,  had  been  out  for  two  hours — and  that  he 
had  not  expected. 

"Did  she  divine  I  would  be  in  evidence  this  morning?" 
Then  he  glanced  in  a  pier  glass  and  grimaced.  "Gone  out 
with  that  plain  Madame  Blanc,  when  she  might  have  had  a 
treat — an  hour  with  me !" 

While  he  stood  there  both  the  Marquise  and  her  com 
panion  appeared,  walking  briskly.  Madame  Blanc,  a  stout 
woman  of  thirty-five,  was  rather  breathless. 

"My  dear  Marquise,  you  do  not  walk,  you  fly,"  she 
gasped,  halting  on  the  steps. 

"You  poor  dear!"  said  the  Marquise,  patting  her  kindly 
on  the  shoulder.  "I  know  you  are  faint  for  want  of  your 
coffee,"  and  at  the  same  time  her  strong  young  arms  helped 
the  panting  attendant  mount  the  steps  more  quickly. 

Once  within  the  hall  Madame  Blanc  dropped  into  the 
chair  nearest  the  door,  while  the  Marquise  swept  into  the 
reception  room  and  hastily  to  a  window  fronting  on  the 
street. 


28  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"How  foolish  of  me,"  she  breathed  aloud.  "How  my 
heart  beats !" 

"Allow  me  to  prescribe,"  said  Dumaresque,  stepping  from 
behind  the  screen  of  the  curtain,  and  smiling  at  her. 

She  retreated,  her  hands  clasped  over  her  breast,  her  eyes 
startled;  then  meeting  his  eyes  she  began  to  laugh  a  little 
nervously. 

"How  you  frightened  me !" 

"And  I  was  evidently  not  the  first,  this  morning." 

She  sank  into  a  seat,  indicated  another  to  him,  away  from 
the  window,  removed  her  hat  and  leaned  back  looking  at 
him. 

"No,  you  are  not,"  she  said  at  last.  "But  account  for 
yourself,  Monsieur  Loris!  The  sun  is  not  yet  half  way 
on  its  course,  yet  you  are  actually  awake,  and  visible  to 
humanity — it  looks  serious." 

"It  is,"  he  agreed,  smiling  at  her,  yet  a  trifle  nervous  in 
his  regard.  "I  have  taken  advantage  of  the  only  hour  out 
of  the  twenty  when  there  would  be  a  chance  of  seeing  you 
alone.  So  I  made  an  errand — and  I  am  here." 

"And—?" 

"And  I  have  determined  that,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
Americans  or  the  English,  I  shall  no  longer  ask  the  inter 
vention  of  a  third  person.  I  decided  on  it  last  night  before 
I  left  here.  I  have  no  title  to  offer  you — you  coldest  and 
most  charming  of  women,  but  I  shall  have  fame ;  you  will 
have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  the  name  of  Dumaresque. 
Put  me  on  probation,  if  you  like,  a  year,  two  years ! — 
only—" 

"No ;  no !"  she  said  pleadingly,  putting  out  her  hands 
with  a  slight  repellant  gesture.  "It  is  not  to  be  thought  of, 
Monsieur  Loris,  Maman  has  told  you!  Twice  has  the 
same  reply  been  given.  I  really  cannot  allow  you  to  con- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  29 

tinue  this  suppiiance.  I  like  you  too  well  to  be  angry  with 
you,  but — " 

"I  shall  be  content  with  the  liking — " 

"But  I  should  not !"  she  declared,  smilingly.  "I  have  my 
ideals,  if  you  please,  Monsieur.  Marriage  should  mean  love. 
It  is  only  matrimony  for  which  liking  is  the  foundation. 
I  do  not  approve  of  matrimony." 

"Pardon ;  that  is  the  expression  of  the  romance  lover — 
the  school  girl.  But  that  I  know  you  have  lived  the  life  of  a 
nun  I  should  fear  some  one  had  been  before  me,  some  one 
who  realized  those  ideals  of  yours,  and  that  instead  of 
studying  the  philosophies  of  life,  you  have  been  a  student 
of  the  philosophy  of  love." 

He  spoke  lightly — half  laughingly,  but  the  flush  of  pink 
suffusing  her  throat  and  brow  checked  his  smile.  He  could 
only  stare. 

She  arose  hastily  and  walked  the  length  of  the  room. 
When  she  turned  the  color  was  all  gone,  but  her  eyes  were 
softly  shining. 

"All  philosophy  falls  dead  when  the  heart  speaks,"  she 
said,  as  she  resumed  her  chair;  "and  now,  Monsieur  Loris, 
I  mean  to  make  you  my  father  confessor,  for  I  know  no 
better  way  of  ending  these  periodical  proposals  of  yours,  and 
at  the  same  time  confession  might — well — it  might  not  be 
without  a  certain  benefit  to  myself."  He  perceived  that 
while  she  had  assumed  an  air  of  raillery,  there  was  some 
substance  back  of  the  mocking  shadow. 

"I  shall  feel  honored  by  your  confidence,  Marquise,"  he 
was  earnest  enough  in  that. 

"And  when  you  realize  that  there  is — some  one  else — will 
you  then  resume  your  former  role  of  friend  ?" 

"I  shall  try.    Who  is  the  man  ?" 

She  met  his  earnest  gaze  with  a  demure  smile,  "I  do  not 
know,  Monsieur." 

3 


30  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"What,  then? — you  are  only  jesting  with  me?" 

"Truly,  I  do  not  know  his  name." 

"Yet  you  are  in  love  with  him?" 

"I  am  not  quite  certain  even  of  that,"  and  she  smiled 
mockingly ;  "sometimes  I  have  a  fancy  it  may  be  witchcraft. 
I  only  know  I  am  haunted — have  been  haunted  .four  long 
weeks  by  a  face,  a  voice,  and  two  blue  eyes." 

"Blue?"  Dumaresque  glanced  in  the  mirror — his  own 
eyes  were  blue. 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Loris — blue  with  a  dash  of  grey — the 
grey  of  the  sea  when  clouds  are  heavy,  and  the  blue  of  the 
farthest  waves  before  the  storm  breaks — don't  you  see  the 
color?". 

"Only  the  color  of  your  fancy.  He  is  the  owner  of  blue 
eyes,  a  haunting  voice,  and — what  else  is  my  rival  ?" 

"A  foreigner,  and — Monsieur  Incognito." 

"You  have  met?" 

"Three  times;"  and  she  held  up  as  many  white  fingers. 
The  reply  evidently  astounded  Dumaresque. 

"You  have  met  three  times  a  man  whose  name  you  do 
not  know?" 

"We  are  even  on  that  score,"  she  said,  "for  he  has  spoken 
to  me  three  times  and  does  not  know  what  I  am  called." 

"But  to  address  you — " 

"He  called  me  Mademoiselle  Unknown." 

"Bravo !  This  grows  piquant ;  an  adventure  with  all 
the  flavor  of  the  eighteenth  instead  of  the  nineteenth  cen 
tury.  A  real  adventure,  and  you  its  heroine!  Oh,  Mar 
quise,  Marquise!" 

"Ah!  since  you  appreciate  the  humor  of  the  affair  you 
will  no  longer  be  oppressed  by  sentimental  fancies  concern 
ing  me;"  and  she  nodded  her  head  as  though  well  pleased 
with  the  experiment  of  her  confession.  "You  perceive  how 
wildly  improper  I  have  been ;  still,  I  deny  the  eighteenth 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  31 

i 
century  flavor,  Monsieur.     Then,  with  three  meetings  the 

cavalier  would  have  developed  into  a  lover,  and  having 
gained  entrance  to  a  lady's  heart,  he  would  have  claimed 
also  the  key  to  her  castle." 

"Astute  pupil  of  the  nuns! — and  Monsieur  Incognito?" 

"He  certainly  does  not  fancy  me  possessed  of  either  castle 
or  keys.  I  was  to  him  only  an  unpretentious  English  com 
panion  in  attendance  on  Madame  Blanc  in  the  woods  of 
Fontainbleau." 

"English !  Since  when  are  you  fond  enough  of  them  to 
claim  kindred?" 

"He  was  English ;  he  supposed  me  so  when  I  replied  to 
him  in  that  tongue.  He  had  taken  the  wrong  path  and — " 

"And  you  walked  together  on  another,  also  the  wrong 
path." 

"No,  Monsieur ;  that  first  day  we  only  bowed  and  parted, 
but  the  ghost  of  his  voice  remained,"  and  she  sighed  in  com 
ical  self-pity. 

"I  see !  You  have  first  given  me  the  overture  and  now  the 
curtain  is  to  rise.  Who  opens  the  next  scene  ?" 

"Madame  Blanc." 

"My  faith !  This  grows  tragical.  Blanc,  the  circumspect, 
the  dowager's  most  trusted  companion.  Has  your  stranger 
bewitched  her  also?"~ 

"She  was  too  near  sighted  to  tell  him  from  the  others. 
I  was  making  a  sketch  of  beeches  and  to  pass  the  time  she 
fed  the  carp.  A  fan  by  which  she  set  store,  fell  into  the 
water.  She  lamented  until  Monsieur  Incognito  secured  it. 
Of  course  I  had  to  be  the  one  to  thank  him,  as  she  speaks  no 
English." 

"Certainly ! — and  then  ?" 

"Then  I  found  a  seat  in  the  shade  for  Madame  Blanc  and 
her  crochet,  and  selected  a  sunny  spot  myself,  where  I 
could  dry  the  fan." 


32  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Alone?" 

"At  first,  I  was  alone." 

"Delicious !  You  were  never  more  charming,  Marquise ; 
go  on." 

"When  he  saw  Madame  Blanc  placidly  knitting  under 
the  trees,  while  I  spread  her  fan  to  dry,  he  fancied  I  was  in 
her  service;  the  fancy  was  given  color  by  the  fact  that  my 
companion,  as  usual,  was  dressed  with  extreme  elegance, 
whilst  I  was  insignificant  in  an  old  school  habit." 

"Insignificant — um !  There  was  conversation  I  pre 
sume  ?" 

"Not  much,"  she  confessed,  and  again  the  delicious  wave 
of  color  swept  over  her  face,  "but  he  had  suggested  spread 
ing  the  fan  on  his  handkerchief,  and  of  course  then  he  had 
to  remain  until  it  was  dry." 

"Clever  Englishman  ;  and  as  he  supposed  you  to  be  a  paid 
companion,  was  he,  also,  some  gentleman's  gentleman  ?" 

She  flashed  one  mutinous  glance  at  him. 

"The  jest  seemed  to  me  amusing;  his  presence  was  an 
exhilaration ;  and  I  did  not  correct  his  little  mistake  as  to 
mistress  and  maid.  When  he  attempted  to  tell  me  who  or 
what  he  was  I  stopped  him ;  that  would  have  spoiled  the  ad 
venture.  I  know  he  had  just  come  from  England ;  that  he 
was  fascinating  without  being  strictly  handsome;  that  he 
could  say  through  silence  the  most  eloquent  things  to  one ! 
It  was  an  hour  in  Arcady — just  one  hour  without  past  or 
future.  They  are  the  only  absolutely  joyous  ones,  are  they 
not?" 

"Item :  it  was  the  happiest  hour  in  the  life  of  Madame  La 
Marquise,"  commented  Dumaresque,  with  an  attempt  at 
drollery,  and  an  accompaniment  of  a  sigh.  "Well — the 
finale?" 

"The  hour  ended !  I  said  'good  day,  Monsieur  Incognito/ 
He  said,  'good  night,  Mademoiselle  Unknown.' " 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  33 

"Good  night!  Heavens — it  was  not  then  an  hour,  but  a 
day!" 

"It  was  an  hour,  Monsieur!  That  was  only  one  way  of 
conveying  his  belief  that  all  the  day  was  in  that  hour." 

"Blessed  be  the  teachings  of  the  convent!  And  you 
would  have  me  believe  that  an  Englishman  could  make 
such  speeches?  However,  I  am  eager  for  the  finale — the 
next  day  ?" 

"The  next  day  I  surprised  Monsieur  and  Madame  Blanc 
by  declaring  the  sketch  I  was  doing  of  the  woods  there,  was 
hopelessly  bad — I  would  never  complete  it." 

"Ah !"  and  Dumaresque's  exclamation  had  a  note  of  hope ; 
"he  had  been  a  bore  after  all  ?" 

"The  farthest  thing  possible  from  it!  When  I  woke  in 
the  morning  it  was  an  hour  earlier  than  usual.  I  found  my 
self  with  my  eyes  scarcely  open,  standing  before  the  clock  to 
reckon  every  instant  of  time  until  I  should  see  him  again. 
Well,  from  that  moment  my  adventure  ceased  to  be  merely 
amusing.  I  told  myself  how  many  kinds  of  an  idiot  I  was, 
and  I  thrust  my  head  among  the  pillows  again.  I  realized 
then,  Monsieur,  what  a  girl's  first  romance  means  to  her.  I 
laughed  at  myself,  of  course,  as  I  had  laughed  at  others 
often.  But  I  could  not  laugh  down  the  certainty  that  the 
skies  were  bluer,  the  birds'  songs  sweeter,  and  all  life  more 
lovely  than  it  had  ever  been  before." 

"And  by  what  professions,  or  what  mystic  rhymes  or 
runes,  did  he  bring  about  this  enchantment?" 

"Not  by  a  single  sentence  of  protestation?  An  avowal 
would  have  sent  me  from  him  without  a  regret.  If  we  had 
not  met  at  all  after  that  first  look,  that  first  day,  I  am  con 
vinced  I  should  have  been  haunted  by  him  just  the  same ! 
There  were  long  minutes  when  we  did  not  speak  or  look  at 
each  other;  but  those  minutes  were  swept  with  harmonies. 


34  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Now,  Monsieur  Loris,  would  you  call  that  love,  or  is  it  a 
sort  of  summer-time  madness  ?" 

"Probably  both,  Marquise ;  "but  there  was  a  third  meet- 
ing?" 

"After  three  days,  Monsieur;  days  when  I  forced  myself 
to  remain  indoors;  and  the  struggle  it  was,  when  I  could 
close  my  eyes  and  see  him  waiting  there  under  the  trees !" 

"Ah!    There  had  been  an  appointment?" 

"Pardon,  Monsieur;  you  are  perhaps  confounding  this 
with  some  remembered  adventure  of  your  own.  There  was 
no  appointment.  But  I  felt  confident  that  blue-eyed  ogre 
was  walking  every  morning  along  the  path  where  I  met  him 
first,  and  that  he  would  compel  me  to  open  the  door  and 
walk  straight  to  our  own  clump  of  bushes  so  long  as  I  did 
not  send  him  away." 

"And  you  finally  went?" 

She  nodded.  "He  was  there.  His  smile  was  like  sun 
shine.  He  approached  me,  but  I — I  did  not  wait.  I  went 
straight  to  him.  He  said,  'At  last,  Mademoiselle  Un 
known  !' " 

"Pardon ;  but  it  is  your  words  I  have  most  interest  in," 
reminded  her  confessor." 

"But  I  said  so  few.  I  remember  I  had  some  violets,  and 
he  asked  me  what  they  were  called  in  French.  I  told  him  I 
was  going  away ;  I  had  fed  the  carp  for  the  last  time.  He 
was  also  leaving.  He  had  gathered  some  wild  forget-me- 
nots.  He  was  coming  into  Paris." 

"And  you  parted  unknown  to  each  other?" 

"How  could  I  do  else?  When  he  said,  'I  bid  you  good 
bye,  Mademoiselle  Unknown,  but  we  shall  meet  again. 
Then — then  I  did  correct  him  a  little;  I  said  Madame  Un 
known,  Monsieur." 

"Ah!     And  to  that—  ?" 

"He  said  not  a  word,  only  looked  at  me ;  how  he  looked 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  35 

at  me!  I  felt  guilty  as  a  criminal.  When  I  looked  up  he 
turned  away — turned  very  politely,  with  lifted  hat  and  a  bow 
even  you  could  not  improve  upon,  Monsieur  Loris,  I 
watched  him  out  of  sight  in  the  forest.  He  never  halted; 
and  he  never  turned  his  head." 

"You  might  at  least  have  let  him  go  without  the  thought 
that  you  were  a  flirtatious  matron  with  a  husband  some 
where  in  the  back-ground." 

"Yes ;  I  almost  regret  that.  Still,  since  I  had  to  send  him 
away,  what  matter  how?  It  would  have  been  so  common 
place  had  I  said:  'We  receive  on  Thursdays;  find  Loris 
Dumaresque  when  you  reach  Paris ;  he  will  present  you.' 
No !" — and  she  shook  her  head  laughingly,  "the  three  days 
were  quite  enough.  He  is  an  unknown  world ;  a  romance 
only  suggested,  and  the  suggestion  is  delicious.  I  would 
not  for  the  world  have  him  nearer  prosaic  reality." 

"You  will  forget  him  in  another  three  weeks,"  prophesied 
Dumaresque ;  "he  has  been  only  a  shadow  of  a  man ;  a 
romantic  dream.  I  shall  refuse  to  accept  any  but  realities 
as  rivals." 

"I  assure  you,  no  reality  has  been  so  appealing  as  that 
dream,"  she  persisted.  I  am  telling  you  all  this  with  the 
hope  that  once  I  have  laughed  with  you  over  this  witchcraft 
it  will  be  robbed  of  its  potency.  I  have  destroyed  the 
sacred  wall  of  sentiment  surrounding  this  ghost  of  mine 
because  I  rebel  at  being  mastered  by  it." 

"Mastered  ?— you  ?" 

"Oh,  you  laugh!  You  think  me,  then,  too  cold  or  too 
philosophic,  in  spite  of  what  I  have  just  told  you?" 

"Not  cold,  my  dear  Marquise.  But  if  you  will  pardon 
the  liberty  of  analysis  I  will  venture  the  opinion  that  when 
you  are  mastered  it  will  be  by  yourself.  Your  very  well- 
shaped  head  will  forever  defend  you  from  the  mastery  of 
others." 


36  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Mastered  by  myself?  I  do  not  think  I  quite  under 
stand  you,"  she  said,  slowly.  "But  I  must  tell  you  the  ex 
treme  limit  of  my  folly,  the  folly  of  the  imagination.  Each 
morning  I  go  for  a  walk,  as  I  did  this  morning.  Each  time 
I  leave  the  door  I  have  with  me  the  fancy  that  somewhere 
I  shall  meet  him.  Of  course  my  reason  tells  me  how  improb 
able  it  is,  but  I  put  the  reason  aside  and  enjoy  my  walk  all 
the  more  because  of  that  fancied  tryst.  Now,  Monsieur 
Loris,  you  have  been  the  victim  of  my  romance  long 
enough.  Come ;  we  will  join  Madame  Blanc  and  have  some 
coffee." 

"And  this  is  all  you  have  to  tell  me,  Marquise?" 

"All  but  one  little  thing,  Monsieur,"  and  she  laughed, 
though  the  laugh  was  a  trifle  nervous ;  "this  morning  for  an 
instant  I  thought  the  impossible  had  happened.  Only  one 
street  from  here  my  ogre  materialized  again,  or  some  one 
wondrously  like  him.  How  startled  I  was !  How  I  hurried 
poor  Madame  Blanc!  But  we  were  evidently  not  discov 
ered.  I  realized,  however,  at  that  moment,  how  imprudent 
I  had  been.  How  shocked  Maman  would  be  if  she  knew. 
Yet  it  was  really  the  most  innocent  jest,  to  begin  with." 

"They  often  begin  that  way,"  remarked  Dumaresque, 
consolingly. 

"Well,  I  have  arrived  at  one  conclusion.  It  is  only  be 
cause  I  have  met  so  few  men,  that  one  dare  make  such  an 
overwhelming  impression  on  me.  I  rebel ;  and  shall  amaze 
Maman  by  becoming  a  social  butterfly  for  a  season.  So,  in 
future  bring  all  your  most  charming  friends  to  see  me ;  but 
no  tall,  athletic,  blue-eyed  Englishmen." 

"So,"  said  Dumaresque,  as  he  followed  her  to  the  break 
fast  room,  "I  lay  awake  all  night  that  I  may  make  love  to 
you  early  in  the  morning,  and  you  check-mate  me  by 
thrusting  forward  a  brawny  Englishman." 

"Pardon ;  he  is  not  brawny ;"  she  laughed ;  "I  never  said 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  37 

\ 
so;  nevertheless,   Monsieur  Loris,   I   can  teach  you  one 

thing:  When  love  has  to  be  made  it  is  best  not  to  waste 
time  with  it.  The  real  love  makes  itself  and  will  neither  be 
helped  or  hindered ;  and  the  love  that  can  be  conquered  is 
not  worth  having." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  rolled  his  eyes  towards 
the  ceiling. 

"In  a  year  and  a  day  I  shall  return  to  the  discussion.  I 
give  you  so  long  to  change  your  mind  and  banish  your 
phantasy;  and  in  the  meantime  I  remain  your  most  de 
voted  visitor." 

Madame  Blanc  was  already  in  evidence  with  the  coffee, 
and  Dumaresque  watched  the  glowing  face  of  the  Marquise, 
surprised  and  puzzled  at  this  new  influence  she  confessed  to 
and  asked  analysis  for.  This  book-worm ;  this  reader  of  law 
and  philosophy ;  how  charming  had  been  her  blushes  even 
while  she  spoke  in  half  mockery  of  the  face  haunting  her. 
If  only  such  color  would  sweep  over  her  cheek  at  the 
thought  of  him — Dumaresque ! 

But  he  had  his  lesson  for  the  present.  He  would  not  play 
the  sighing  Strephon,  realizing  that  this  particular  Amaryl 
lis  was  not  to  be  won  so.  As  he  received  the  coffee  from 
her  hand  he  remarked,  mischievously,  "Marquise,  you  did 
not  quite  complete  the  story.  What  became  of  the  forget- 
me-nots  he  gathered?" 

But  the  Marquise  only  laughed. 

"We  are  no  longer  in  the  confessional,  Monsieur,"  she 
said. 


38  THE  BONDWOMAN. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  found  herself  thinking  of  the  young  Mar 
quise  very  often.  She  was  not  pleased  at  the  story  with 
which  she  had  been  entertained  there ;  yet  was  she  conscious 
of  the  fact  that  she  would  have  been  very  much  more 
displeased  had  the  story  been  told  by  any  other  than  the 
fascinating  girl-widow. 

"Do  you  observe,"  she  remarked  to  the  Countess  Helena, 
"that  young  though  she  is  she  seems  to  have  associated  only 
with  elderly  people,  or  with  books  where  various  questions 
were  discussed  ?  It  is  a  pity.  She  has  been  robbed  of  child 
hood  and  girlhood  by  the  friends  who  are  so  proud  of  her, 
and  who  would  make  of  her  only  a  lovely  thinking-ma 
chine." 

"You  do  not  then  approve  of  the  strong-minded  woman, 
the  female  philosopher." 

"Oh,  yes ;"  replied  Mrs.  McVeigh,  dubiously ;  "but  this 
delightful  creature  does  not  belong  to  that  order  yet.  She  is 
bubbling  over  with  enthusiasm  for  the  masses  because  she 
has  not  yet  been  touched  by  enthusiasm  for  an  individual. 
I  wish  she  would  fall  in  love  with  some  fine  fellow  who 
would  marry  her  and  make  her  life  so  happy  she  would  for 
get  all  the  bad  laws  of  nations  and  the  bad  morals  of  the 
world." 

"Hum !  I  fancy  suitors  have  not  been  lacking.  Her  in 
come  is  no  trifle." 

"In  our  country  a  girl  like  that  would  need  no  income 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  39 

to  insure  her  desirable  suitors.  She  is  the  most  fascinating 
creature,  and  so  unconscious  of  her  charms." 

Her  son,  who  had  been  at  a  writing  desk  in  the  corner, 
laid  down  his  pen  and  turned  around. 

"My  imperfect  following  of  your  rapid  French  makes  me 
understand  at  least  that  this  is  a  serious  case,"  he  said,  teas- 
ingly.  "Are  you  sure,  mother,  that  she  has  not  treated  you 
to  enchantment?  I  heard  the  same  lady  described  a  few 
days  ago,  and  the  picture  drawn  was  that  of  an  atheistical 
revolutionist,  an  unlovely  and  unlovable  type." 

"Ah !"  said  the  Countess  Helene.  "You  also  are  opposed 
to  beautiful  machines  that  think." 

"I  have  never  been  accustomed  to  those  whose  thoughts 
follow  such  unpleasant  lines,  Madame,"  he  replied.  "I  have 
been  taught  to  revere  the  woman  whose  foundation  of  life 
is  the  religion  scorned  by  the  lady  you  are  discussing.  A 
woman  without  that  religion  would  be  like  a  scentless  blos 
som  to  me." 

The  Countess  smiled  and  raised  her  brows  slightly.  This 
severe  young  officer,  her  friend's  son,  took  himself  and  his 
tastes  very  seriously. 

Looking  at  him  she  fancied  she  could  detect  both  the 
hawk  and  the  dove  meeting  in  those  clear,  level  eyes  of  his. 
Though  youthful,  she  could  see  in  him  the  steadiness  of  the 
only  son — the  head  of  the  house — the  protector  and  the 
adored  of  his  mother  and  sister,  who  were  good  little  wo 
men,  flattering  their  men  folks  by  their  dependence.  And 
from  that  picture  the  lady  who  was  studying  him  passed  on 
to  the  picture  of  the  possible  bride  to  whom  he  would  some 
day  fling  his  favors.  She,  also,  must  be  adoring  and  domes 
tic  and  devout.  Her  articles  of  faith  must  be  as  orthodox  as 
his  affection.  He  would  love  her,  of  course,  but  must  do 
the  thinking  for  the  family. 

Because  the  Lieutenant  lacked  the   buoyant,    adaptable 


40  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

French  temperament  of  his  mother,  the  Countess  was  in 
clined  to  be  rather  severe  in  her  judgment  of  him.  He  was 
so  young ;  so  serious.  She  did  not  fancy  young  men  except 
in  the  pages  of  romances ;  even  when  they  had  brains  they 
appeared  to  her  always  over-weighted  with  the  responsibility 
of  them. 

It  is  only  after  a  man  has  left  his  boyhood  in  the  distance 
that  he  can  amuse  a  woman  with  airy  nothings  and  make  her 
feel  that  his  words  are  only  the  froth  on  the  edge  of  a  cur 
rent  that  is  deep — deep ! 

Mrs.  McVeigh,  unconscious  of  the  silent  criticism  being 
passed  on  her  son,  again  poised  a  lance  in  defence  of  the 
stranger  under  discussion. 

"It  is  absurd  to  call  her  atheistical,"  she  insisted ;  "would 
I  be  influenced  by  such  a  person  ?  She  is  an  enthusiast,  stu 
dent  of  many  religions,  possibly;  but  people  should  know 
her  before  they  judge,  and  you,  Kenneth,  should  see  her 
before  you  credit  their  gossip.  She  is  a  beautiful,  sympa 
thetic  child,  oppressed  too  early  with  the  seriousness  of  life." 

"At  any  rate,  I  see  I  shall  never  take  you  home  heart 
whole,"  he  decided,  and  laughed  as  he  gathered  up  letters  he 
had  been  addressing  and  left  the  room. 

"One  could  fancy  your  son  making  a  tour  of  the  world 
and  coming  back  without  a  sentimental  scratch,"  said  the 
Countess,  after  he  had  gone.  "I  have  noticed  him  with 
women ;  perfectly  gallant,  interested  and  willing  to  please, 
but  not  a  flutter  of  an  eyelid  out  of  form ;  not  a  tone  of  the 
voice  that  would  flatter  one.  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
the  women  are  all  the  more  anxious  to  claim  such 
a  man,  the  victory  seems  greater,  yet  it  is  more  natural  to 
find  them  reciprocal.  Perhaps  there  is  a  betrothed  some 
where  to  whom  he  has  sworn  allegiance  in  its  most  rigid 
form ;  is  that  the  reason  ?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  41 

Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled.  She  rather  liked  to  think  her  son 
not  so  susceptible  as  Frenchmen  pretended  to  be. 

"I  do  not  think  there  are  any  vows  of  allegiance,"  she 
confessed ;  "but  there  is  someone  at  home  to  whom  we  have 
assigned  him  since  they  were  children." 

"Truly?  But  I  fancied  the  parents  did  not  arrange  the 
affairs  matrimonial  in  your  country." 

"We  do  not;  that  is,  not  in  a  definite  official  way.  Still, 
we  are  allowed  our  little  preferences,  and  sometimes  we  can 
help  or  hinder  in  our  own  way.  But  this  affair" — and  she 
made  a  gesture  towards  the  door  of  her  son's  room,  "this 
affair  is  in  embryo  yet." 

"Good  settlements?" 

"Oh,  yes ;  the  girl  is  quite  an  heiress  and  is  the  niece  of 
his  guardian — his  guardian  that  was.  Their  estates  join, 
and  they  have  always  been  fond  of  each  other;  so  you  see 
we  have  reason  for  our  hopes." 

"Excellent !"  agreed  her  friend,  "and  to  conclude,  I  am  to 
suppose  of  course  she  is  such  a  beauty  that  she  blinds  his 
eyes  to  all  the  charms  arrayed  before  him  here." 

"Well,  we  never  thought  of  Gertrude  as  a  beauty  ex 
actly  ;  but  she  is  remarkably  good  looking ;  all  the  Lorings 
are.  I  would  have  had  her  with  me  for  this  visit  but  that  her 
uncle,  with  whom  she  lives,  has  been  very  ill  for  months. 
They,  also,  are  of  colonial  French  descent  with,  of  course, 
the  usual  infusions  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  European  blood 
supposed  to  constitute  the  new  American." 

"The  new — " 

"Yes,  you  understand,  we  have  yet  the  original  American 
in  our  land — the  Indian." 

"Ah !"  with  a  gesture  of  repulsion ;  "the  savages ;  and 
then,  the  Africans !  How  brave  you  are,  Claire.  I  should 
die  of  fear." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  only  smiled.     She  was  searching  through 


42  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

a  portfolio,  and  finally  extracted  a  photograph  from  other 
pictures  and  papers. 

"That  is  Miss  Loring,"  she  said,  and  handed  it  to  the 
Countess,  who  examined  it  with  critical  interest. 

"Very  pretty,"  she  decided,  "an  English  type.  If  she 
were  a  Parisian,  a  modiste  and  hairdresser  would  do  won 
ders  towards  developing  her  into  a  beauty  of  the  very  rare, 
very  fair  order.  She  suggests  a  slender  white  lily." 

"Yes,  Gertrude  is  a  little  like  that,"  assented  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  and  placed  the  photograph  on  the  mantel  beside 
that  of  the  very  charming,  piquant  face  of  a  girl  resembling 
Mrs.  McVeigh.  It  was  a  picture  of  her  daughter. 

"Only  six  weeks  since  I  left  her;  yet,  it  seems  like  a 
year,"  she  sighed ;  and  Fitzgerald  Delaven,  who  had  entered 
from  the  Lieutenant's  room,  sighed  ponderously  at  her 
elbow. 

"Well,  Dr.  Delaven, why  are  you  blowing  like  a  bellows?" 
she  asked,  with  a  smile  of  good  nature. 

"Out  of  sympathy,  my  lady,"  replied  the  young  Irish 
man. 

"Now,  how  can  you  possibly  sympathize  understandingly 
with  a  mother's  feelings,  you  Irisn  pretender?"  she  asked 
with  a  note  of  fondness  in  her  tones.  "I  sigh  because  I 
have  not  seen  my  little  Evilena  for  six  weeks." 

"And  I  because  I  am  never  likely  to  see  that  lovely  du 
plicate  of  yourself  at  all,  at  all !  Ah,  you  laugh !  But  have 
you  not  noticed  that  each  time  I  am  allowed  to  enter  this 
room  I  pay  my  devotions  to  that  particular  corner  of  the 
mantel  ?" 

"A  very  modern  shrine,"  observed  the  Countess ;  "and 
why  should  you  not  see  the  original  of  the  picture  some 
day.  It  is  not  so  far  to  America." 

"True  enough,  but  I'll  be  delving  for  two  years  here  in 
the  medical  college,"  he  replied  with  lamentation  in  his  tone. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  43 

"And  after  that  I'll  be  delving  for  a  practice  in  some  modest 
corner  of  the  world,  and  all  the  time  that  little  lady  will  be 
counting  her  lovers  on  every  one  of  her  white  fingers,  and, 
finally,  will  name  the  wedding  day  for  a  better  boy  than  my 
self,  och  hone !  och  hone !" 

Both  the  ladies  laughed  over  his  comical  despair,  and 
when  Lieutenant  McVeigh  entered  and  heard  the  cause  of  it 
he  set  things  right  by  promising  to  speak  a  good  word  for 
Delaven  to  the  little  girl  across  the  water. 

"You  are  a  trump,  Lieutenant ;  sorry  am  I  that  I  have 
no  sister  with  which  to  return  the  compliment." 

"She  might  be  in  the  way,"  suggested  the  Countess,  and 
made  a  gesture  towards  the  other  picture.  "You  perceive ; 
our  friend  need  not  come  abroad  for  charming  faces ;  those 
at  home  are  worth  courting/' 

"True  for  you,  Madame ;"  he  gave  a  look  askance  at  the 
Lieutenant,  and  again  turned  his  eyes  to  the  photograph,* 
"there's  an  excuse  for  turning  your  back  on  the  prettiest 
we  have  to  offer  you !"  and  then  in  an  undertone,  he  added : 
"Even  for  putting  aside  the  chance  of  knowing  our  so  ador 
able  Marquise." 

The  American  did  not  appear  to  hear  or  to  appreciate  the 
spirit  of  the  jest  regarding  the  pictures,  for  he  made  no 
reply.  The  Countess,  who  was  interested  in  everybody's 
affairs,  wondered  if  it  was  because  the  heiress  was  a  person 
of  indifference  to  him,  or  a  person  who  was  sacred ;  it  was 
without  doubt  one  or  the  other  for  which  the  man  made  of 
himself  a  blank  wall,  and  discouraged  discussion. 

Her  carriage  was  just  then  announced;  an  engagement 
with  Mrs.  McVeigh  was  arranged  for  the  following  morn 
ing,  and  then  the  Countess  descended  the  staircase  accom 
panied  by  the  Lieutenant  and  Delaven.  She  liked  to  make 
progress  through  all  public  places  with  at  least  two  men  in 
attendance ;  even  a  youthful  lieutenant  and  an  untitkd  med- 


44  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ical  student  were  not  to  be  disdained,  though  she  would,  of 
course,  have  preferred  the  Lieutenant  in  a  uniform,  six  feet 
of  broad  shouldered,  good-looking  manhood  would  not 
weigh  in  her  estimation  with  the  glitter  of  buttons  and 
golden  cord. 

The  two  friends  were  yet  standing  on  the  lower  step  of 
the  hotel  entrance,  gazing  idly  after  her  carriage  as  it  turned 
the  corner,  when  another  carriage  containing  two  ladies 
rolled  softly  towards  their  side  of  the  street,  as  if  to  stop  at 
a  jeweler's  two  doors  below. 

Delaven  uttered  a  slight  exclamation  of  pleasure,  and 
stepped  forward  as  if  to  speak,  or  open  the  door  of  their 
carriage.  But  the  occupants  evidently  did  not  see  him, 
and,  moreover,  changed  their  minds  about  stopping,  for 
the  wheels  were  just  ceasing  to  revolve  when  the  younger 
of  the  ladies  leaned  forward,  spoke  a  brief  word,  and  the 
driver  sent  the  horses  onward  at  a  rapid  trot  past  the  hotel, 
and  Delaven  stepped  back  with  a  woeful  grimace. 

"Faith!  no  chance  to  even  play  the  lackey  for  her,"  he 
grumbled.  "There's  an  old  saying  that  'God  is  good  to  the 
Irish ;'  but  I  don't  think  I'm  getting  my  share  of  it  this  day ; 
unless  its  by  way  of  being  kept  out  of  temptation,  and  sure, 
its  never  a  Delaven  would  pray  for  that  when  the  temptation 
is  a  lovely  woman.  Now  wasn't  she  worth  a  day's  journey 
afoot  just  to  look  at?" 

He  turned  to  his  companion,  whose  gaze  was  still  on  the 
receding  carriage,  and  who  seemed,  at  last,  to  be  aroused 
to  interest  in  something  Parisian ;  for  his  eyes  were  alight, 
his  expression,  a  mingling  of  delight  and  disappointment. 
At  Delaven's  question,  however,  he  attempted  nonchalance, 
not  very  successfully,  and  remarked,  as  they  re-entered  the 
house,  "There  were  two  of  them  to  look  at,  which  do  you 
mean?" 

"Faith,  now,  did  you  suppose  for  a  minute  it  was  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  45 

dowager  I  meant?  Not  a  bit  of  it!  Madame  Alain,  as  I 
heard  some  of  them  call  her,  is  the  'gem  of  purest  ray  se 
rene.'  What  star  of  the  heavens  dare  twinkle  beside  her?" 

"Don't  attempt  the  poetical,"  suggested  the  other,  un 
feelingly.  "I  am  to  suppose,  then,  that  you  know  her — this 
Madame  Alain  ?" 

"Do  I  know  her?  Haven't  I  been  raving  about  her  for 
days  ?  Haven't  you  vowed  she  belonged  to  the  type  abhor 
rent  to  you?  Haven't  I  had  to  endure  your  reflections  on 
my  sanity  because  of  the  adjectives  I've  employed  to  de 
scribe  her  attractions  ?  Haven't  you  been  laughing  at  your 
own  mother  and  myself  for  our  infatuation  ? — and  now — " 

He  stopped,  because  the  Lieutenant's  grip  on  his  shoulder 
was  uncomfortably  tight,  as  he  said : 

"Shut  up !    Who  the  devil  are  you  talking  about  ?" 

"By  the  same  power,  how  can  I  shut  up  and  tell  you  at 
the  same  time?"  and  Delaven  moved  his  arm,  and  felt  of 
his  shoulder,  with  exaggerated  self-pity.  "Man !  but  you've 
got  a  grip  in  that  fist  of  yours." 

"Who  is  the  lady  you  call  Madame  Alain?" 

"Faith,  if  you  had  gone  to  her  home  when  you  were  invited 
you'd  have  no  need  to  ask  me  the  question  this  day.  Her 
nearest  friends  call  her  Madame  Alain,  because  that  was  the 
given  name  of  her  husband,  the  saints  be  good  to  him !  and 
it  helps  distinguish  her  from  the  dowager.  But  for  all  that 
she  is  the  lady  you  disdained  to  know — Madame  la  Marquise 
de  Caron." 

McVeigh  stared  at  him  moodily,  even  doubtfully. 

"You  are  not  trying  to  play  a  practical  joke,  I  reckon?" 
he  said  at  last ;  and  then  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  walked 
over  to  the  office  window,  where  he  stood  staring  out,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  back  to  Delaven,  who  was  eyeing 

4 


46  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

him  calmly.  Directly,  he  came  back  smiling;  his  moody 
fit  all  gone. 

"And  I  was  idiot  enough  to  disdain  that  invitation?"  he 
asked ;  "well,  Fitz,  I  have  repented.  I  am  willing  to  do 
penance  in  any  agreeable  way  we  can  conjure  up,  and  to 
commence  by  calling  tomorrow,  if  you  can  find  a  way." 

Delaven  found  a  way.  Finding  the  way  out  of,  or  into 
difficulties  was  one  of  his  strong  points  and  one  he  especially 
delighted  in,  if  it  had  a  flavor  of  intrigue,  and  was  to  serve  a 
friend.  Since  his  mother's  death  in  Paris,  several  years 
before,  he  had  made  his  home  in  or  about  the  city.  He 
was  without  near  relatives,  but  had  quite  a  number  of  con 
nections  whose  social  standing  was  such  that  there  were 
few  doors  he  could  not  find  keys  to,  or  a  password  that  was 
the  equivalent.  His  own  frank,  ingenuous  nature  made  him 
quite  as  many  friends  as  his  social  and  diplomatic  connec 
tions;  so  that  despite  the  fact  of  a  not  enormous  income, 
and  that  he  meant  to  belong  to  the  professions  some  day, 
and  that  he  was  by  no  means  a  youth  on  matrimony  bent — 
with  all  these  drawbacks  he  was  welcomed  in  a  social  way 
to  most  delightful  circles,  and  when  he  remarked  to  the 
dowager  that  he  would  like  to  bring  his  friend,  the  Lieu 
tenant,  at  an  early  day,  she  assured  him  they  would  be  wel 
come. 

She  endeavored  to  make  them  so  in  her  own  characteristic 
way,  when  they  called,  twenty-four  hours  later,  and  they 
spent  a  delightful  twenty  minutes  with  her.  She  could  not 
converse  very  freely  with  the  American,  because  of  the  dif 
ficulties  of  his  French  and  her  English,  but  their  laughter 
over  mistakes  really  tended  to  better  their  acquaintance. 
He  was  conscious  that  her  eyes  were  on  him,  even  while  she 
talked  with  Delaven,  whose  mother  she  had  known.  He 
would  have  been  uncomfortable  under  such  surveillance 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  47 

but  for  the  feeling  that  it  was  not  entirely  an  unkindly  re 
gard,  and  he  had  hopes  that  the  impression  made  was  in  his 
iavor. 

Loris  Dumaresque  arrived  as  they  were  about  to  take  their 
departure,  and  Lieutenant  McVeigh  gathered  from  their 
greeting  that  he  was  a  daily  visitor — that  as  god-son  he  was 
acting  as  far  as  possible  in  the  stead  of  a  real  son,  and  that 
the  dowager  depended  on  him  in  many  ways  since  bis  return 
to  Paris. 

The  American  realized  also  that  the  artist  would  be  called 
a  very  handsome  man  by  some  people,  and  that  his  gaiety 
and  his  self  confidence  would  make  him  especially  attractive 
to  women.  He  felt  an  impatience  with  women  who  liked 
that  sort  of  impudence.  Delaven  did  not  get  a  civil  word 
from  him  all  the  way  home. 

Madame  la  Marquise — Madame  Alain — had  not  appeared 
upon  the  scene  at  all. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"But  he  is  not  at  all  bad,  this  American  officer,"  insisted 
the  dowager ;  "such  a  great,  manly  fellow,  with  the  deference 
instinctive,  and  eyes  that  regard  you  well  and  kindly.  Your 
imagination  has  most  certainly  led  you  astray ;  it  could  not 
be  that  with  such  a  face,  and  such  a  mother,  he  could  be  the 
— horrible !  of  that  story." 

"All  the  better  for  him,"  remarked  her  daughter-in-law. 
"But  I  should  not  feel  at  ease  with  him.  He  must  be  some 
relation,  and  I  should  shrink  from  all  of  the  name." 

"But,  Madame  McVeigh — so  charming !" 

"Oh,  well ;  she  only  has  the  name  by  accident,  that  is,  by 
marriage." 


48  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

The  dowager  regarded  her  with  a  smile  of  amusement. 

"Shall  you  always  regard  marriage  as  merely  an  acci 
dent?"  she  asked.  "Some  day  it  will  be  presented  to  you 
in  such  a  practical,  advantageous  way  that  you  will  cease  to 
think  it  all  chance." 

"Advantageous?"  and  the  Marquise  raised  her  brows; 
"could  we  be  more  happy  than  we  are  ?"  The  old  face  soft 
ened  at  the  words  and  tone. 

"But  I  shall  not  be  always  with  you,"  she  replied;  and 
then—" 

"Alain  knew,"  said  the  girl,  softly.  "He  said  as  a  widow 
I  could  have  liberty.  I  would  need  no  guardian ;  I  could 
look  after  all  my  affairs  as  young  girls  could  not  do.  Each 
year  I  shall  grow  older — more  competent." 

"But  there  is  one  thing  Alain  did  not  foresee :  that  your 
many  suitors  would  rob  you  of  peace  until  you  made  choice 
of  some  particular  one.  These  late  days  I  have  felt  I  should 
like  the  choice  to  be  made  while  I  am  here  to  see." 

"Maman !  you  are  not  ill?"  and  in  a  moment  she  was  be 
side  the  couch. 

"No ;  I  think  not ;  no,  no,  nothing  to  alarm  you.  I  have 
only  been  thinking  that  together — both  of  us  to  plan  and 
arrange — yet  I  need  Loris  daily.  And  if  there  should  be 
only  one  of  us,  that  remaining  one  would  need  some  man's 
help  all  the  more,  and  if  it  were  you,  who  then  would  the 
man  be  ?  You  perceive !  It  is  wise  to  make  plans  for  all 
possibilities." 

"There  are  women  who  live  alone." 

"Not  happy  women,"  said  the  dowager  in  a  tone,  admit 
ting  of  no  contradiction ;  "the  women  who  live  alone  from 
choice  are  cold  and  selfish ;  or  have  hurts  to  hide  and  are 
heart-sick  of  a  world  in  which  their  illusions  have  been 
destroyed;  or  else  they  have  never  known  companionship, 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  49 

and  so  never  feel  the  lack  of  it.  My  child,  I  will  not  have 
you  like  any  of  these ;  you  were  made  to  enjoy  life,  and  life 
to  the  young  should  mean — well,  I  am  a  sentimentalist.  I 
married  the  one  man  who  had  all  my  affection.  I  approve 
of  such  marriages.  If  the  man  comes  for  whom  you  would 
care  like  that,  I  should  welcome  him." 

"He  will  never  come,  Maman,"  and  the  smile  of  the  Mar 
quise  someway  drifted  into  a  sigh.  "I  shall  live  and  die  the 
widow  of  Alain." 

The  dowager  embraced  her.  "But  for  all  that  I  do  not 
approve,"  she  protested.  "Your  reasons  for  not  marrying 
do  not  convince  me,  and  I  promise  my  support  to  the  most 
worthy  who  presents  himself.  Have  you  an  ideal  to  which 
nothing  human  may  reach?" 

"For  three  years  your  son  has  seemed  ideal  to  me,"  said 
the  Marquise,  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  The  dowager 
regarded  her  attentively. 

"He  was?"  she  asked;  "your  regard  for  him  does  you 
credit;  but,  amber  eyes,  it  is  not  for  a  man  who  has  been 
dead  a  year  that  a  woman  blushes  as  you  blush  now." 

"Oh  !"  began  the  Marquise,  as  if  in  protest ;  and  then  feel 
ing  that  the  color  was  becoming  even  more  pronounced, 
she  was  silent. 

The  dowager  smiled,  well  pleased  at  her  cleverness. 

"There  was  sure  to  be  some  one,  some  day,"  she  said, 
nodding  sagaciously ;  "when  you  want  to  talk  of  it  I  will  lis 
ten,  my  Judithe.  I  could  tell  it  in  the  tone  of  your  voice 
as  you  sang  or  laughed ;  yes,  there  is  nothing  so  wonderful 
in  that,"  she  explained,  as  the  girl  looked  up,  startled.  "You 
have  always  been  a  creature  of  aims,  serious,  almost  pon 
derous.  Suddenly  you  emerge  like  sunshine  from  the  shad 
ows  ;  you  are  all  gaiety  and  sudden  smiles ;  unconsciously 
you  sing  low  songs  of  happiness;  you  suggest  brightness 


50  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  hope ;  you  have  suddenly  come  into  your  long-delayed 
girlhood.  You  give  me  affectionate  glimpses  of  the  woman 
God  meant  you  to  be  some  day.  It  can  only  be  a  man  who 
works  such  a  miracle  in  an  ascetic  of  nineteen  years.  When 
the  lucky  fellow  gathers  courage  to  speak,  I  shall  be  glad  to 
pass  judgment  on  him." 

The  Marquise  was  silent.  The  light,  humorous  tone  of 
the  dowager  had  disarmed  her;  yet  she  had  of  her  own 
accord,  and  influenced  by  some  wild  mood,  told  Dumaresque 
all  that  was  only  guesswork  to  the  friend  beside  her.  How 
could  she  have  confessed  it  to  him?  She  had  wondered  at 
herself  that  she  had  dared,  and  after  all  it.  had  been  so  en 
tirely  useless ;  it  had  not  driven  away  the  memory  of  the 
man  at  Fontainbleau,  even  for  one  little  instant. 

Madame  Blanc  entered  with  some  message  for  the  dow 
ager,  and  the  question  of  marriage,  also  the  more  serious 
one  of  love,  were  put  aside  for  the  time. 

But  Judithe  was  conscious  that  she  was  under  a  kindly 
surveillance,  and  suspected  that  Dumaresque,  also,  was 
given  extra  attention.  Her  confession  of  that  unusual  fas 
cination  had  made  them  better  comrades,  and  the  dowager 
was  taking  note  that  their  tone  was  more  frank,  and  their 
attitude  suggested  some  understanding.  It  was  like  a  com 
edy  for  her  to  watch  them,  feeling  so  sure  that  their  senti 
ments  were  very  clear  and  that  she  could  see  the  way  it 
would  all  end.  Judithe  would  coquette  with  him  awhile, 
and  then  it  would  be  all  very  well ;  and  it  would  not  be  like  a 
stranger  coming  into  the  family. 

The  people  who  came  close  enough  to  see  her  often,  real 
ized  that  the  journey  back  to  Paris  had  not  been  beneficial 
to  the  dowager.  It  ha3  only  been  an  experiment  through 
which  she  had  been  led  to  open  her  house,  receive  her 
friends,  introduce  her  daughter;  but  the  little  excitement 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  51 

of  that  had  vanished,  and  now  that  the  routine  of  life  was 
to  be  followed,  it  oppressed  her.  The  ghosts  of  other  days 
came  so  close — the  days  when  Alain  had  been  beside  her. 
At  times  she  regretted  Rome,  but  the  physician  forbade  her 
return  there  until  autumn.  She  had  fancied  that  a  season 
in  the  old  nouse  at  Fontainbleau  would  serve  as  a  restora 
tive  to  health — the  house  where  Alain  was  born ;  but  it  was 
a  failure.  Her  days  there  were  days  of  tears,  and  sad,  far 
away  memories.  So  to  Paris  she  went  with  the  assertion 
that  there  alone,  life  was  to  be  found.  She  meant  to  live 
to  the  last  minute  of  her  life,  and  where  so  well  as  in  the  one 
city  inexhaustible? 

"Maman  is  trying  to  frighten  me  into  marriage,"  thought 
the  Marquise  after  their  conversation;  "she  wants  some 
spectacular  ceremony  to  enliven  the  house  for  a  season,  and 
cure  her  ennui ;  Paris  has  been  a  disappointment,  and  Loris 
is  making  himself  necessary  to  her." 

She  was  thinking  of  the  matter,  and  of  the  impossibility 
that  she  should  ever  marry  Loris,  when  a  box  of  flowers  was 
brought — one  left  by  a  messenger,  who  said  nothing  of 
whence  they  came,  and  no  name  or  card  attached  suggested 
the  sender. 

"For  Maman,"  decided  the  Marquise  promptly. 

But  Madame  Blanc  thought  not. 

"You,  Madame,  are  the  Marquise." 

"Oh,  true!  but  the  people  who  would  send  me  flowers 
would  not  be  so  certain  their  own  names  would  not  be  for 
gotten.  I  have  no  old,  tried,  and  silent  friends  to  remem 
ber  me  so." 

While  she  spoke  she  was  lifting  out  the  creamy  and  blush- 
tinted  roses ;  Maman  should  see  them  arranged  in  the  pret 
tiest  vase,  they  must  go  up  with  the  chocolate — she  would 
take  it  herself ! 


52  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

So  she  chattered  while  Madame  Blanc  arranged  the  tray. 
But  suddenly  the  chatter  ceased.  The  Marquise  had  lifted 
out  the  last  of  the  roses,  and  under  the  fragrant  screen  lay 
the  cause  of  the  sudden  silence. 

It  was  a  few  sprays  of  dew-wet  forget-me-nots!  Her 
heart  seemed  to  stop  beating. 

Forget-me-not!  there  was  but  one  person  who  had  any 
association  in  her  mind  with  that  flower.  Did  this  have  a 
meaning  relating  to  him  ?  or  was  it  only  chance  ? 

She  said  nothing  to  Madame  Blanc  about  the  silent  mes 
sage  in  the  bottom  of  the  box. 

All  that  day  she  moved  as  in  a  dream.  At  times  she  was 
oppressed  by  the  terror  of  discovery,  and  again  it  was  with 
a  rebellious,  delicious  feeling  of  certainty  that  he  had  not 
forgotten !  He  had  searched  for  her — found  her !  She 
meant  to  ignore  him  if  they  should  meet ;  certainly  she  must 
do  that !  His  assurance  in  daring  to — yet — yes,  she  rather 
liked  the  daring — still ! 

She  remembered  some  one  saying  that  impertinence 
gained  more  favors  from  women  than  respect,  and  he — yes, 
certainly  he  was  impertinent ;  she  must  never  recognize  him, 
of  course — never !  Her  cheek  burned  as  she  fancied  what 
he  must  think  of  her — a  girl  who  made  friends  with  stran 
gers  in  the  park !  Yet  she  was  glad  that  since  he  had  not  let 
her  forget,  he  also  had  been  forced  to  remember. 

She  told  herself  all  this,  and  much  more ;  the  task  occu 
pied  so  much  of  her  time  that  she  forgot  to  go  asleep  that 
night,  and  she  saw  the  morning  star  shine  out  of  the  blue 
haze  beyond  the  city,  and  it  belonged  to  a  dawn  with  a 
meaning  entirely  its  own.  Never  before  or  after  was  a 
daybreak  so  beautiful.  The  sun  wheeled  royally  into  view 
through  the  atmosphere  of  her  first  veritable  love  romance. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  53 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Even  the  card  of  Lieutenant  McVeigh  could  not  annoy 
her  that  morning.  He  came  with  some  message  to  the 
dowager  from  his  mother.  At  any  other  time  the  sound  of 
his  name  would  have  made  a  discord  for  her.  The  preju 
dices  of  Judithe  were  so  decided,  and  so  independent  of  all 
accepted  social  rules,  that  the  dowager  hoped  when  she  did 
choose  a  husband  he  would  prove  a  diplomat — they  would 
need  one  in  the  family. 

"Madame  Blanc,  will  you  receive  the  gentleman?"  she 
asked.  "Maman  has  not  yet  left  her  room,  and  I  am  en 
gaged." 

And  for  the  second  time  the  American  made  his  exit  from 
the  Caron  establishment  without  having  seen  the  woman 
his  friends  raved  about.  Descending  the  steps  he  remem 
bered  the  old  saw  that  a  third  attempt  carried  a  charm  with 
it.  He  smiled,  and  the  smile  suggested  that  there  would  be 
a  third  attempt. 

The  Marquise  looked  at  the  card  he  left,  and  her  smile  had 
not  so  much  that  was  pleasant  in  it. 

"Maman,  my  conjecture  was  right,"  she  remarked  as  she 
entered  the  room  of  the  dowager ;  "your  fine,  manly  Ameri 
can  was  really  the  youth  of  my  Carolina  story." 

"Carolina  story?"  and  the  dowager  looked  bewildered  for 
a  moment ;  when  one  has  reached  the  age  of  eighty  years 
the  memory  fails  for  the  things  of  today ;  only  the  affairs  of 
long  ago  retain  distinctness. 


54  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Exactly ;  the  man  for  whom  Rhoda  Larue  was  educated, 
and  of  whom  you  forbade  me  to  speak — the  man  who 
bought  her  from  Matthew  Loring,  of  Loringwood,  Caro 
lina." 

"You  are  certain  ?" 

"Here  is  the  name,  Kenneth  McVeigh.  It  is  not  likely 
there  are  two  Kenneth  McVeighs  in  the  same  region.  How 
small  the  world  is  after  all!  I  used  to  fancy  the  width  of 
the  ocean  was  as  a  barrier  between  two  worlds,  yet  it  has 
not  prevented  these  people  from  crossing,  and  coming  to 
our  door!" 

She  sank  into  a  seat,  the  card  still  in  her  hand. 

"Judithe,"  said  the  dowager,  after  watching  her  moody 
face  thoughtfully,  "my  child,  I  should  be  happier  if  you 
banished,  so  far  as  possible,  that  story  from  your  memory. 
It  will  have  a  tendency  to  narrow  your  views.  You  will 
always  have  a  prejudice  against  a  class  for  the  wrong  done 
by  an  individual.  Put  it  aside !  It  is  a  question  outside  of 
your  life,  outside  of  it  always  unless  your  sympathies  per 
sist  in  dragging  you  into  such  far-away  abuses.  We  have 
the  Paris  poor,  if  you  must  think  and  do  battle  for  the  un 
fortunate.  And  as  to  the  American,  consider.  He  must 
have  been  very  young,  perhaps  was  influenced  by  older 
heads.  He  may  not  have  realized — " 

The  Marquise  smiled,  but  shook  her  head.  "You  are 
eloquent,  Maman,  but  you  do  not  convince  me.  He  must 
be  very  handsome  to  have  won  you  so  completely  in  one 
interview.  For  me,  I  do  not  believe  in  his  ignorance  of 
the  evil  nor  in  his  youthful  innocence.  I  think  of  the 
women  who  for  generations  have  been  the  victims  of  such 
innocence,  and  I  should  like  to  see  your  handsome  young 
cadet  suffer  for  his  share  of  it !" 

"Tah !"  and  the  dowager  put  out  her  hand  with  a  gesture 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  55 

of  protest  and  a  tone  of  doubt  in  her  voice.  "You  say  so 
Judithe,  but  you  could  not  see  any  one  suffer,  not  even  the 
criminal.  You  would  come  to  his  defense  with  some  philo 
sophical  reason  for  the  sin — some  theory  of  pre-natal  influ 
ence  to  account  for  his  depravity.  Collectively  you  con 
demn  them ;  individually  you  would  pardon  every  one 
rather  than  see  them  suffer — I  mean,  than  stand  by  and 
actually  see  the  suffering." 

"I  could  not  pardon  that  man,"  insisted  the  Marquise; 
"Ugh !  I  feel  as  if  for  him  I  could  have  the  hand  of  Judithe 
as  well  as  the  name." 

"And  treat  him  a-la-Holofernes  ?  My  child,  sometimes 
I  dislike  that  name  of  Judithe  for  you ;  I  do  not  want  you 
to  have  a  shadow  of  the  character  it  suggests.  I  shall  re 
gret  the  name  if  it  carries  such  dark  influences  with  it.  As 
for  the  man — forget  him  !" 

"With  all  my  heart,  if  he  keeps  out  of  my  way,"  agreed 
the  Marquise ;  "but  if  the  old  Jewish  god  of  battles  ever 
delivers  him  into  my  hands — !"  She  paused  and  drew  a 
deep  breath. 

"Well?" 

"Well — I  should  show  him  mercy  such  as  the  vaunted 
law-giver,  the  chosen  of  the  Lord,  the  man  of  meekness, 
showed  to  the  conquered  Midianites — no  more!"  and  her 
laugh  had  less  of  music  in  it  than  usual.  "I  instinctively 
hate  the  man,  Kenneth  McVeigh — Kenneth  McVeigh! — 
even  the  name  is  abhorrent  since  the  day  I  heard  of  that 
awful  barter  and  sale.  It  seems  strange,  Maman,  does  it 
not,  when  I  never  saw  him  in  my  life — never  expected  to 
hear  his  name  again — that  it  is  to  our  house  he  has  found 
his  way  in  Paris ;  to  our  house,  where  an  unknown  woman 
abhors  him.  Ah !"  and  she  flung  the  card  from  her.  "You 
are  right,  Maman;  I  am  too  often  conquered  by  my  own 


So  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

moods  and  feelings.     The  American  need  be  nothing  to  us." 

The  dowager  was  pleased  when  the  subject  was  dropped. 
She  had  seen  so  many  battles  fought,  in  theory,  by  human 
itarians  who  are  alive  to  the  injustice  of  the  world.  But  her 
day  was  over  for  race  questions  and  creeds.  Judithe  was 
inspiring  in  her  sympathies,  but  the  questions  that  breathe 
living  flame  for  us  at  twenty  years,  have  burned  into  dead 
ashes  at  eighty. 

"Tah !  I  would  rather  she  would  marry  and  let  me  see 
her  children,"  she  grumbled  to  Madame  Blanc ;  "if  she  does 
not,  I  trust  her  to  your  care  when  I  am  gone.  She  is  differ 
ent  since  we  reached  Paris — different,  gayer,  and  less  of  the 
student." 

"But  no  more  in  touch  with  society,"  remarked  the  at 
tentive  companion ;  "she  accepts  no  invitations,  and  goes 
only  to  the  galleries  and  theatres." 

"Urn  ! — pictured  people,  and  artificial  people !  Both  have 
a  tendency  to  make  her  an  idealist  instead  of  a  realist." 

To  Dumaresque  she  made  the  same  remark,  and  sug 
gested  he  should  help  find  attractions  for  her  in  real  life. 

"She  is  too  imaginative,  and  I  do  not  want  her  to  be  of  the 
romantic  women ;  the  craze  for  romance  in  life  is  what  fills 
the  columns  of  the  journals  with  new  scandals  each  month." 

"Madame  Judithe  is  safe  from  that  sort  of  romance,"  de 
clared  her  god-son.  "Yet  with  her  face  and  those  glorious 
eyes  one  should  allow  her  some  flights  in  the  land  of  the 
ideal.  She  suggests  all  old  Italy  at  times,  but  she  has  never 
mentioned  her  family  to  me." 

"Because  it  was  a  topic  which  both  Alain  and  I  forbade 
her,  when  she  was  younger,  to  discuss.  Naturally,  she  has 
not  a  joyous  temperament  and  memories  of  her  childhood 
can  only  have  an  unhappy  effect,  which  accounts  for  our  de 
cision  of  the  matter.  Her  father  died  before  she  could  re- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  57 

member  him,  and  the  mother,  who  was  of  Greek  blood,  not 
long  after.  A  relative  who  arranged  affairs  left  the  daugh 
ter  penniless.  At  the  little  chateau  Levigne  she  was  of  great 
service  to  me  when  she  was  but  sixteen.  Madam  Blanc, 
who  tried  to  reach  me  in  time,  declares  the  child  saved  my 
life.  It  was  a  dog — a  mad  one.  I  was  on  the  lawn  when  he 
broke  through  the  hedge,  snapped  Alain's  mastiff,  Ponto, 
and  came  straight  for  me.  I  was  paralyzed  with  terror ;  then, 
just  as  he  leaped  at  me,  the  child  swung  a  heavy  chair  over 
her  head.  Tah !  She  looked  like  a  young  tigress.  The  dog 
was  struck  helpless,  his  back  broken.  The  gardener  came 
and  killed  him,  and  Ponto,  too,  was  killed,  when  he  showed 
that  the  bite  had  given  him  the  poison.  Ah,  it  was  terrible, 
that  day.  Then  I  wrote  Alain  and  we  decided  she  should 
never  leave  us.  I  made  over  to  her  the  income  of  the  little 
Lavigne  estate,  thus  her  education  was  carried  on,  and  when 
we  went  to  Rome — well,  Alain  was  not  satisfied  until  he 
could  do  even  more  for  her." 

The  old  lady  helped  herself  to  snuff  and  sighed.  Her  list 
ener  wondered  if,  after  all,  that  death-bed  marriage  had  been 
entirely  acceptable  to  the  mother.  Some  suggestion  of  his 
thought  must  have  come  to  her,  for  she  continued : 

"Not  that  I  disapproved,  you  must  understand.  No 
daughter  could  be  more  devoted.  I  could  not  be  without 
her  now.  But  I  had  a  hope — a  mother's  foolish  hope — that 
perhaps  it  might  be  a  love  affair ;  that  the  marriage  would 
renew  his  interest  in  life  and  thus  accomplish  what  the  phy 
sicians  could  not  do — save  him." 

"Good  old  Alain,"  said  Dumaresque,  with  real  feeling 
in  his  tones.  "He  deserved  to  live  and  win  her.  I  can 
imagine  no  better  fortune  for  a  man." 

"But  it  was  an  empty  hope,  and  a  sad  wedding,"  con 
tinued  the  dowager,  with  a  sigh.  "That  was,  to  her,  a  day  of 


58  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

gloom,  which  to  others  is  the  one  day  to  look  forward  to 
through  girlhood  and  backward  to  from  old  age.  Oh,  yes ; 
it  is  not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at  that  she  is  a  creature  of 
moods  and  ideals  outlined  on  a  background  of  shadow." 

The  voice  of  the  Marquise  sounded  through  the  hall  and 
up  the  stairs.  She  was  singing,  joyously  as  a  bird.  The 
eyes  of  the  two  met,  and  Dumaresque  laughed. 

"Oh!  and  what  is  that  but  a  mood,  too?"  demanded  the 
dowager ;  "a  mood  that  is  pleasant,  I  grant  you,  and  it  has 
lasted  longer  than  usual — ever  since  we  came  to  Pans.  I 
enjoy  it,  but  1  like  to  know  the  reason  of  things.  I  guess 
at  it  in  this  case ;  yet  it  eludes  me." 

Dumaresque  raised  his  brows  and  smiled  as  one  who  in 
vites  further  confidences.  But  he  received  instead  a  keen 
glance  from  the  old  eyes,  and  at  question : 

"Loris,  who  is  the  man?" 

"What!     You  ask  me?" 

"There  is  no  other  to  ask ;  you  know  all  the  men  she  has 
met ;  you  are  not  a  fool,  and  an  artist's  eye  is  trained  to  ob 
serve." 

"It  has  not  served  me  in  this  case,  my  god-mother." 

"Which  means  you  will  not  tell.  I  shall  suspect  it  is 
yourself  if  you  conspire  to  keep  it  from  me." 

"Pouf !  When  it  is  myself  I  shall  be  so  eager  to  let  it  be 
known  that  no  one  will  have  time  to  ask  a  question." 

"That  is  good,"  she  said  approvingly.  "I  must  rest  now. 
I  have  talked  so  long ;  but  a  word,  Loris ;  she  likes  you, 
she  trusts  you,  and  that — well,  that  goes  far." 

And  all  the  morning  her  assurance  made  for  him  hours 
of  brightness.  The  stranger  of  Fontainbleau  had  drifted 
into  the  background,  and  should  never  have  real  place  in 
their  lives.  She  liked  and  trusted  him;  and  that  would 
go  far. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  59 

He  was  happy  in  imagining  the  happiness  that  might  be, 
forgetful  of  another  lover,  one  among  the  poets,  who 
avowed  that  the  happiness  of  the  future  was  the  only  real 
happiness  of  the  world. 

He  was  pleased  that  his  god-mother  had  confided  to  him 
these  little  facts  of  family  history.  He  remembered  how 
intensely  eager  the  dowager  had  been  for  Alain's  marriage, 
years  before,  that  there  might  be  an  heir ;  and  he  remem 
bered,  in  part,  the  cause — her  detestation  of  a  female  relative 
whose  son  would  inherit  the  Marquisate'  should  a  son  be 
born  to  her,  and  Alain  die  without  children.  He  could  see 
how  eagerly  the  dowager  would  have  consented  to  a  mar 
riage  with  even  the  poorest  of  poor  relations  if  both  the 
Marquisate  and  Alain  might  be  saved  by  it. 

Poor  Alain  !  He  remembered  the  story  of  why  he  had  re 
mained  single ;  a  story  of  love  forbidden,  and  of  a  woman 
who  entered  a  convent  because,  in  the  world,  she  could  not 
live  with  her  lover,  and  would  not  live  with  the  man  whose 
name  she  bore.  It  was  an  old  story;  she  had  died  long 
ago,  but  Alain  had  remained  faithful.  It  had  been  the  one 
great  passion  he  had  known  of,  outside  of  a  romance,  and 
the  finale  of  it  was  that  the  slight  girlish  protegee  was  mis 
tress  of  his  name  and  fortune,  though  her  heart  had  never 
beat  the  faster  for  his  glance. 

And  the  Greek  blood  doubtless  accounted  for  her  readi 
ness  of  speech  in  different  tongues ;  they  were  so  naturally 
linguists — the  Greeks.  He  had  met  her  first  in  Rome,  and 
fancied  her  an  Italian.  Delaven  had  asked  if  she  were  not 
English ;  and  now  in  the  heart  of  France  she  appeared  to 
him  entirely  Parisian. 

A  chameleon-like  wife  might  have  her  disadvantages,  he 
thought,  as  he  walked  away  after  the  talk  with  his  god 
mother  ;  yet  she  would  not  be  so  apt  as  others  to  bore  one 


60  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

with  sameness.  At  nineteen  she  was  charming;  at  twenty- 
five  she  would  be  magnificent. 

The  streets  were  alive  that  morning  with  patriotic  groups 
discussing  the  victory  of  the  French  troops  at  Magenta. 
The  first  telegrams  were  posted  and  crowds  were  gathered 
about  them. 

Dumaresque  passed  through  them  with  an  unusually 
preoccupied  air.  Then  a  tall  man,  leaning  against  a  pillar 
and  viewing  the  crowd,  bowed  to  him  in  such  a  way  as  to 
arrest  his  attention.  It  was  the  American,  of  the  smiling, 
half  sleepy  eyes,  and  the  firm  mouth.  The  combination  ap 
pealed  to  Dumaresque  as  an  artist;  also  the  shape  of  the 
head,  it  was  exceedingly  good,  strong ;  even  his  lounging  at 
titude  had  the  grace  suggestive  of  strength.  He  remem 
bered  seeing  somewhere  the  head  of  a  young  lion  painted 
with  just  those  half  closed,  shadowy  eyes.  Lieutenant  Mc 
Veigh  was  regarding  him  with  something  akin  to  their 
watchfulness,  the  same  slow  gaze  travelling  from  the  feet 
to  the  head  as  they  approached  each  other ;  it  was  deliberate 
as  the  measuring  of  an  adversary,  and  its  finale  was  a 
smile. 

"Glad  to  see  a  man/'  he  remarked.  "I  have  been  listening 
to  the  jabbering  and  screeches  of  the  crowd  until  they  seem 
only  manikins." 

Dumaresque  laughed.  "You  come  by  way  of  England, 
I  believe;  do  you  prefer  the  various  dialects  of  that  land 
of  fog?" 

"No,  I  do  not;  have  a  cigar?"  Dumaresque  accepted  the 
offer.  McVeigh  himself  lighted  one  and  continued : 

"Their  stuffiness  lacks  the  picturesque  qualities  possessed 
by  even  the  poorest  of  France,  and  then  they  bore  one  with 
their  wranglings  for  six-pences,  from  Parliament  down  to 
peasant.  They  are  always  at  it  in  Britannia  the  gem  of  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  61 

ocean,  wrangling  over  six-pences,  and  half-pennies  and  can 
dle  ends." 

"You  are  finding  flaws  in  the  people  who  call  you  cousin," 
remarked  the  artist. 

"Yes,  I  know  they  do,''  said  the  other,  between  puffs. 
"But  I  can't  imagine  a  real  American  helping  them  in  their 
claims  for  relationship.  Our  history  gives  us  no  cause  for 
such  kindly  remembrances." 

"Unless  on  the  principle  that  one  has  a  kindly  regard  for 
a  man  after  fighting  with  him  and  not  coming  out  second 
best,"  remarked  Dumaresque.  "I  have  an  errand  in  the  next 
street ;  will  you  come  ?" 

McVeigh  assented.  They  stalked  along,  chattering  and 
enjoying  their  cigars  until  they  reached  a  florist's,  where  Du 
maresque  produced  a  memorandum  and  read  off  a  list  of 
blossoms  and  greenery  to  be  delivered  by  a  certain  date. 

"An  affair  for  the  hospitals  to  be  held  in  the  home  of 
Madame  Dulac,  wife  of  General  Dulac,"  he  explained; 
"it  is  to  be  all  very  novel,  a  bazaar  and  a  ball.  Madame  is 
an  old  friend  of  my  god-mother,  the  dowager  Marquise  de 
Caron,  whom  you  have  met." 

McVeigh  assented  and  showed  interest. 

"We  have  almost  persuaded  Madame  Alain,  her  daughter, 
to  preside  over  one  of  the  booths.  Ah !  It  will  be  a  place 
to  empty  one's  pockets ;  you  must  come." 

"Not  sure  about  invitations,"  confessed  McVeigh,  frank 
ly.  "It  is  a  very  exclusive  affair,  I  believe,  and  a  foreigner 
will  be  such  a  distinctive  outsider  at  such  gatherings." 

"We  will  undertake  to  prevent  that,"  promised  Dumar 
esque.  "and  in  the  interests  of  charity  you  will  find  both 
dames  and  demoiselles  wonderfully  gracious  to  even  a  lone 
ly,  unattached  man.  If  you  dance  you  can  win  your  own 
place." 

6 


62  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Oh,  yes ;  we  all  dance  in  our  country ;  some  of  us  poorly, 
perhaps;  still,  we  dance." 

"Good !  You  must  come.  I  am  assisting,  after  a  fashion, 
in  planning  the  decorations,  and  I  promise  to  find  you  some 
one  who  is  charming,  and  who  speaks  your  language  de 
lightfully." 

There  was  some  further  chat.  McVeigh  promised  he 
would  attend  unless  his  mother  had  made  conflicting  en 
gagements.  Dumaresque  informed  him  it  was  to  be  a  fancy 
dress  affair ;  uniforms  would  be  just  the  thing ;  and  he  parted 
with  the  American  much  more  pleased  with  him  than  in  the 
salons  where  they  had  met  heretofore. 

Kenneth  McVeigh  sauntered  along  the  avenue,  tall,  care 
less,  reposeful.  His  expression  was  one  of  content,  and 
he  smiled  as  he  silently  blessed  Loris  Dumaresque,  who  had 
done  him  excellent  service  without  knowing  it — had  found 
a  method  by  which  he  would  try  the  charm  of  the  third  at 
tempt  to  see  the  handsome  girl  who  had  passed  them  that 
day  in  the  carriage. 

He  entered  the  hotel  late  that  night.  Paris,  in  an  unoffi 
cial  way,  was  celebrating  the  victory  of  Magenta  by  shout 
ing  around  bon-fires,  laughing  under  banners,  forming  dele 
gations  no  one  remembered,  and  making  addresses  no  one 
listened  to. 

Late  though  it  was,  Mrs.  McVeigh  had  not  retired.  From 
a  window  she  was  looking  out  on  the  city,  where  sleep 
seemed  forgotten,  and  her  beautiful  eyes  had  a  seriousness 
contrasting  strangely  with  the  joyous  celebrations  of  vic 
tory  she  had  been  witnessing. 

"What  is  it,  mother  ?"  he  asked,  in  the  soft,  mellow  tones 
of  the  South,  irresistible  in  their  caressing  qualities.  The 
mother  put  out  her  hand  and  clasped  his  without  speaking. 

"Homesick?"  he  ventured,  trying  to  see  her  face  ss  he 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  63 

drew  a  chair  closer ;  "longing  for  that  twelve-year-old  baby 
of  yours  ?  Evilena  certainly  would  enjoy  the  hubbub." 

"No,  Kenneth,"  she  said  at  last:  "it  is  not  that.  But  I 
have  been  watching  the  enthusiasm  of  these  people  over  a 
victory  they  have  helped  win  for  Italy's  freedom — not  their 
own.  We  have  questions  just  as  vital  in  our  country ;  some 
day  they  must  be  settled  in  the  same  way;  there  seems  no 
doubt  of  it — and  then — " 

"Then  we  will  go  out,  have  our  little  pass  at  each  other, 
and  come  back  and  go  on  hoeing  our  corn,  just  as  father 
did  in  the  Mexican  campaign,"  he  said  with  an  attempt  at 
lightness ;  but  she  shook  her  head. 

"Many  a  soldier  left  the  corn  fields  who  never  came  back 
to  them." 

"Why,  mother,  what  is  it,  dear  ?  You've  been  crying,  cry 
ing  here  all  alone  over  one  war  that  is  nothing  to  us,  and 
another  that  may  never  happen ;  come !  come !"  He  put  his 
arm  about  her  as  if  she  were  a  child  to  be  petted.  Her  head 
sank  on  his  shoulder,  though  she  still  looked  away  from 
him,  out  into  the  brilliantly  lighted  street. 

"It  was  not  the — the  political  justice  or  injustice  of  the 
wars,"  she  confessed  after  a  little ;  "it  was  not  of  that  I  was 
thinking.  But  a  woman  screamed  out  there  on  the  street. 
They — the  people — had  just  told  her  the  returns  of  the  bat 
tle,  and  her  son  was  among  the  killed — poor  woman !  Her 
only  son,  Kenneth,  and — " 

"Yes,  dear,  I  understand."  He  drew  her  closer  and  lifting 
her  head  from  her  lap,  placed  it  on  his  shoulder.  She  ut 
tered  a  tremulous  little  sigh  of  content.  And  then,  with  his 
arms  about  her,  the  mother  and  son  looked  out  on  Paris 
after  a  victory,  each  thinking  of  their  own  home,  their  own 
capital  cities,  and  their  own  vague  dread  of  battles  to  be  in 
the  future. 


64  THE  BONDWOMAN. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

As  morning  after  morning  passed  without  the  arrival  of 
other  mysterious  boxes  of  flowers  or  of  significant  messages, 
the  Marquise  began  to  watch  Loris  Dumaresque  more  than 
was  usual  with  her.  He  was  the  only  one  who  knew :  had 
he,  educated  by  some  spirit  of  jest,  been  the  sender  of  the 
blossoms  ? 

And  inconsistent  as  it  may  appear  when  one  remembers 
her  avowed  fear  of  discovery,  yet  from  the  moment  that  sus 
picion  entered  her  mind  the  charm  was  gone  from  the  blos 
soms  and  the  days  to  follow,  and  she  felt  for  the  first  time  a 
resentment  towards  Monsieur  Incognito. 

Her  reason  told  her  this  was  an  inevitable  consequence, 
through  resentment  forgetfulness  would  come. 

But  her  heart  told  her — ? 

Her  presence  at  the  charitable  fete  held  by  Madame  la 
General  at  the  Hotel  Dulac  was  her  first  response,  in  a 
social  way  to  the  invitations  of  her  Parisian  acquaintances. 
A  charity  one  might  support  without  in  any  way  commit 
ting  oneself  to  further  social  plunges.  She  expected  to  feel 
shy  and  strange ;  she  expected  to  be  bored.  But  since  Ma- 
man  wished  it  so  much — ! 

There  is  nothing  so  likely  to  banish  shyness  as  success. 
The  young  Marquise  could  not  but  be  conscious  that  she 
attracted  attention,  and  that  the  most  popular  women  of 
the  court  who  had  been  pleased  to  show  their  patronage  by 
attendance,  did  not  in  the  least  eclipse  her  own  less  pre- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  65 

tentious  self.  People  beseiged  Madame  Dulac  for  intro 
ductions,  and  to  her  own  surprise  the  debutante  found  her 
self  enjoying  all  the  gay  nothings,  the  jests,  the  bright  sen 
tences  tossed  about  her  and  forming  a  foundation  for  com 
pliments  delicately  veiled,  and  the  flattering  by  word  or 
glance  that  was  as  the  breath  of  life  to  those  people  of  the 
world. 

She  was  dressed  in  white  of  medieval  cut.  Heavy  white 
silk  cord  was  knotted  about  the  slender  waist  and  touched 
the  embroidered  hem.  The  square  neck  had  also  the  sim 
ple  finish  of  cord  and  above  it  was  the  one  bit  of  color ;  a 
flat  necklace  of  etruscan  gold  fitted  closely  about  the  white 
throat,  holding  alternate  rubies  and  pearls  in  their  curiously 
wrought  settings.  On  one  arm  was  a  bracelet  of  the  same 
design ;  and  the  linked  fillet  above  her  dark  hair  gleamed, 
also,  with  the  red  of  rubies. 

It  was  the  age  of  tarletan  and  tinsel,  of  delicate  zephyrs 
and  extremes  in  butterfly  effects.  Hoop-skirts  were  per 
sisted  in,  despite  the  protests  of  art  and  reason;  so,  the 
serenity  of  this  dress,  fitting  close  as  a  habit,  and  falling  in 
soft  straight  folds  with  a  sculpturesque  effect,  and  with  the 
brown-eyed  Italian  face  above  it,  created  a  sensation. 

Dumaresque  watched  her  graciously  accepting  homage 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  smiled,  thinking  of  his  prophecy 
that  she  would  be  magnificent  at  twenty-five; — she  was  so 
already. 

Some  women  near  him  commented  on  the  simplicity  of 
Her  attire. 

"Oh,  that  is  without  doubt  the  taste  of  the  dowager ;  fail 
ing  to  influence  the  politics  of  the  country  she  consoled 
herself  with  an  attempt  to  make  a  revolution  in  the  fashions 
of  the  age." 

"And  is  this  sensation  to  illustrate  her  ideas?"  asked  an- 


66  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

other.  "She  has  rather  a  good  manner — the  girl — but  the 
dress  is  a  trifle  theatrical,  suggestive  of  the  pages  of  trage 
dies  and  martyred  virgins." 

"Suggestive  of  the  girl  Cleopatra  before  she  realized  her 
power,"  thought  the  artist  as  he  passed  on.  He  knew  that 
just  those  little  remarks  stamped  her  success  a  certainty, 
and  was  pleased  accordingly.  The  dowager  had  expressed 
her  opinion  that  Judithe  would  bury  herself  in  studies  if  left 
to  herself,  perhaps  even  go  back  to  the  convent.  He  fan 
cied  a  few  such  hours  of  adulation  as  this  would  change  the 
ideas  of  any  girl  of  nineteen  as  to  the  desirability  of  con 
vents. 

He  noticed  that  the  floral  bower  over  which  she  presided 
had  little  left  now  but  the  ferns  and  green  things ;  she  had 
been  adding  money  to  the  hospital  fund.  Once  he  noticed 
the  blossoms  left  in  charge  of  her  aides  while  she  entered 
the  hall  room  on  the  arm  of  the  most  distinguished  official 
present,  and  later,  on  that  of  one  of  the  dowager's  oldest 
friends.  She  talked  with,  and  sold  roses  to  the  younger 
courtiers  at  exorbitant  prices,  but  it  was  only  the  men  of 
years  and  honors  whom  she  walked  beside. 

Madame  Dulac  and  Dumaresque  exchanged  glances  of 
approval ;  as  a  possible  general  in  the  social  field  of  the 
future,  she  had  commenced  with  the  tactics  of  absolute 
genius.  Dumaresque  wondered  if  she  realized  her  own 
cleverness,  or  if  it  was  because  she  honestly  liked  best  to 
talk  or  listen  to  the  men  of  years,  experience,  and  undoubted 
honors. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  was  there,  radiant  as  Aurore  and  with 
eyes  so  bright  one  would  not  fancy  them  bathed  in  tears  so 
lately,  or  the  smooth  brow  as  containing  a  single  anxious 
motherly  thought.  But  the  Marquise  having  heard  that 
story  of  the  son,  wondered  as  she  looked  at  her  if  the  hand- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  67 

some  mother  had  not  many  an  anxious  thought  the  world 
never  suspected. 

She  was  laughing  frankly  to  the  Marquise  over  the  future 
just  read  in  her  palm  by  a  picturesque  Egyptian,  who  was 
one  of  the  novelties  added  to  Madame  Dulac's  list  for  the 
night. 

Nothing  less  than  an  adoring  husband  had  been  prom 
ised  her,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  few  shadowed  years, 
not  a  cloud  larger  than  the  hand  of  a  man  was  to  cross  the 
sky  of  her  destiny. 

"I  am  wishing  Kenneth  had  come — my  son,  you  know. 
Something  has  detained  him.  I  certainly  would  have  liked 
him  to  hear  that  promise  of  a  step-father.  Our  Southern 
men  are  not  devoid  of  jealousy — even  of  their  mothers." 

Then  she  passed  on,  a  glory  of  azure  and  silver,  and  the 
Marquise  felt  a  sense  of  satisfaction  that  the  son  had  not 
come;  the  prejudice  she  felt  against  that  unabashed  Ameri 
can  would  make  his  presence  the  one  black  cloud  across  the 
evening. 

While  she  was  thinking  of  him  the  party  about  her  sep 
arated,  and  she  took  advantage  of  a  moment  alone  to  slip 
unperceived  into  the  alcove  back  of  the  evergreens.  It 
seemed  the  one  nook  unappropriated  by  the  glittering 
masses  of  people  whose  voices,  near  and  far,  suggested 
the  murmur  of  bees  to  her  as  she  viewed  it  from  her  shad 
owy  retreat,  while  covered  from  sight  herself. 

The  moonlight  was  shining  through  the  window  of  the 
little  alcove  screened  by  the  tall  palms.  The  music  of  a 
tender  waltz  movement  drifted  softly  across  to  her  and  made 
perfect  her  little  retreat.  She  was  conscious  that  it  had  all 
been  wonderfully  and  unexpectedly  perfect ;  the  success, 
the  adulation,  had  given  her  a  new  definite  faith  in  herself. 
How  Maman  would  have  enjoyed  it.  Maman,  who  would 


68  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

want  every  little  detail  of  the  pleasant  things  said  and.  done. 
She  wondered  if  it  was  yet  too  early  to  depart,  she  might 
reach  home  before  the  dowager  slept,  and  tell  her  all  the 
glories  of  it. 

So  thinking,  she  turned  to  enter  again  the  glare  of  light  to 
find  Madame  Dulac,  or  Madame  Blanc,  who  had  accom 
panied  her,  to  tell  them. 

But  another  hand  pushed  aside  the  curtain  of  silk  and 
the  drooping  fronds  of  gigantic  fern.  Looking  up  she  saw 
a  tall,  young  man,  wearing  a  dark  blue  uniform,  who  bowed 
with  grace,  and  stood  aside  that  she  might  pass  if  she  chose. 
He  showed  no  recognition,  and  there  was  the  pause  of  an 
instant.  She  could  feel  the  color  leave  her  face.  Then, 
with  an  effort,  she  raised  her  eyes,  and  tried  to  speak  care 
lessly,  but  the  voice  was  little  more  than  a  whisper,  in  which 
she  said : 

"You!" 

His  face  brightened  and  grew  warm.  The  tone  itself  told 
more  than  she  knew ;  a  man  would  be  stupid  who  could  not 
read  it,  and  this  one,  though  youthful,  did  not  look  stupid. 

"Madame  Unknown,"  he  murmured,  in  the  voice  she 
had  not  been  able  to  forget,  "I  am  not  so  lost  here  as  at 
Fontainbleau.  May  I  ask  some  one  to  present  me  to  your 
notice  ?" 

At  that  she  smiled,  and  the  smile  was  contagious. 

"You  may  not,"  she  replied  frankly,  recovering  herself, 
and  assuming  a  tone  of  lightness  to  conquer  the  fluttering  in 
her  throat.  "The  list  of  names  I  have  had  to  remember  this 
evening  is  most  formidable,  another  one  would  make  the 
last  feather  here,"  and  she  tapped  her  forehead  significantly. 
"I  was  just  about  to  flee  from  it  all  when — " 

She  hesitated  and  looked  about  her  in  an  uncertain  wav. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  69 

He  at  once  placed  a  chair  for  her.  She  allowed  her  hand  to 
rest  on  the  back  of  it  as  if  undecided. 

"You  will  not  be  so  unkind  ?"  he  said ;  and  his  words  held 
a  plea.  She  answered  it  by  seating  herself. 

"Well  ?" 

At  the  interrogation  he  smiled. 

"Will  you  not  allow  me,  Madame,  to  introduce  myself?" 

"But,  Monsieur  Incognito,  consider;  I  have  remembered 
you  best  because  you  have  not  done  so ;  is  was  a  novelty. 
But  all  those  people  whose  names  were  spoken  to  me  this 
evening — pouf !  and  she  blew  a  feathery  spray  of  fern  from 
her  palms,  "they  have  all  drifted  into  oblivion  like  that.  Do 
you  wish,  then,  to  be  presented  and — to  follow  them  ?" 

"I  refuse  to  follow  them  there — from  you." 

His  tones  were  so  low,  so  even,  so  ardent,  that  she  looked 
startled  and  drew  her  breath  quickly. 

"You  are  bold,  Monsieur,"  and  though  she  strove  to 
speak  haughtily  she  was  too  much  of  a  girl  to  be  severe 
when  her  eyes  met  his. 

"Why  not  ?"  he  asked,  growing  bolder  as  she  grew  more 
timid.  "You  grant  me  one  moment  out  of  your  life;  then 
you  mean  to  close  the  gates  against  me — if  you  can.  In 
that  brief  time  I  must  condense  all  that  another  man  should 
take  months  to  say  to  you.  I  have  been  speaking  to  you 
daily,  however,  for  six  weeks  and — " 

"Monsieur!    Six  weeks?" 

"Every  day,"  he  assented,  smiling  down  at  her.  "Of 
course  you  did  not  hear  me.  I  was  very  confidential  about 
it.  I  even  tried  to  stop  it  entirely  when  I  was  allowed  to 
believe  that  Mademoiselle  was  Madame." 

"But  it  is  quite  true — she  is  Madame." 

"Certainly ;  yet  you  let  me  think — well,  I  forgive  you  for 
it  now,  since  I  have  found  you  again." 


70  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Monsieur !" — she  half  arose. 

"Will  Mademoiselle  have  her  fortune  told?"  asked  a 
voice  beside  them,  and  the  beringed  Egyptian  pushed  aside 
the  palms,  "or  Monsieur,  perhaps  ?" 

"Both  of  us,"  he  assented  with  eagerness;  that  is,  if 
Mademoiselle  chooses."  He  dropped  two  pieces  of  gold  in 
the  beaded  purse  held  out.  "Come,"  he  half  whispered  to 
the  Marquise,  "let  me  see  if  oblivion  is  really  the  doom 
fate  reads  against  me." 

She  half  put  out  her  hand,  thinking  that  after  all  it  was 
only  a  part  of  the  games  of  the  night — the  little  amusements 
with  which  purses  were  filled  for  charity;  then  some  sud- 
•  den  after  thought  made  her  draw  it  back. 

"You  fear  the  decision?"  he  asked. 

She  did  not  fear  the  decision  he  meant,  but  she  did  fear — 

"No,  Monsieur,  I  am  not  afraid.  Oh,  yes ;  she  may  read 
my  palm,  it  is  all  a  jest,  of  course." 

The  Egyptian  held  the  man's  hand  at  which  she  had  not 
yet  glanced.  She  took  the  hand  of  the  Marquise. 

"Pardon,  Madame,  it  is  no  jest,  it  is  a  science,"  she  said 
briefly,  and  holding  their  hands,  glanced  from  one  to  the 
other. 

"Firm  hands,  strong  hands,  both,"  she  said,  and  then  bent 
over  that  of  the  Marquise ;  as  she  did  so  the  expression  of 
casual  interest  faded  from  her  face;  she  slowly  lifted  her 
head  and  met  the  gaze  of  the  owner. 

"Well,  well?  Am  I  to  commit  murders?"  she  asked;  but 
her  smile  was  an  uneasy  one ;  the  gaze  of  the  Egyptian  made 
her  shrink. 

"Not  with  your  own  hand,"  said  the  woman,  slowly  study 
ing  the  well-marked  palm  ;  "but  you  will  live  for  awhile  sur 
rounded  by  death  and  danger.  You  will  hate,  and  suffer  for 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  71 

the  hate  you  feel.  You  will  love,  and  die  for  the  love  you 
will  not  take — you — " 

But  the  Marquise  drew  her  hand  away  petulantly. 

"Oh  !  I  am  to  die  of  love,  then? — I !"  and  her  light  laugh 
was  disdainful.  "That  is  quite  enough  of  the  fates  for  one 
evening;"  she  regarded  the  pink  palm  doubtfully.  "See, 
Monsieur,  it  does  not  look  so  terrible;  yet  it  contains  all 
those  horrors." 

"Naturally  it  would  not  contain  them,"  said  the  Egyptian. 
"You  will  force  yourself  to  meet  what  you  call  the  horrors. 
You  will  sacrifice  yourself.  You  will  meet  the  worst  as  the 
women  of  '93  ascended  the  guillotine — laughing." 

"Ah,  what  pictures !  Monsieur,  I  wish  you  a  better  for 
tune." 

"Than  to  die  of  love  ?"  he  asked,  and  met  her  eyes ;  "that 
were  easier  than  to  live  without  it." 

"Chut ! — you  speak  like  the  cavalier  of  a  romance." 

"I  feel  like  one,"  he  confessed,  "and  it  rests  on  your  mercy 
whether  the  romance  has  a  happy  ending. 

She  flashed  one  admonishing  glance  at  him  and  towards 
the  woman  who  bent  over  his  hand. 

"Oh,  she  does  not  comprehend  the  English,"  he  assured 
her;  "and  if  she  does  she  will  only  hear  the  echo  of  what 
she  reads  in  my  hand." 

"Proceed,"  said  the  Marquise  to  the  Egyptian,  "we  wait 
to  hear  the  list  of  Monsieur's  romances." 

"You  will  live  by  the  sword,  but  not  die  by  the  sword," 
said  the  woman.  "You  will  have  one  great  passion  in  your 
life.  Twice  the  woman  will  come  in  your  path.  The  first 
time  you  will  cross  the  seas  to  her,  the  second  time  she 
comes  to  you — and — ah ! — " 

She  reached  again  for  the  hand  of  the  Marquise  and  com- 


72  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

pared  them.    The  two  young  people  looked,  not  at  her,  but 
at  each  other. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  Marquise  was  a  certain  petulant  rebel 
lion,  and  in  his  the  appealing,  the  assuring,  the  ardent  gaze 
that  met  and  answered  her. 

"It  is  peculiar — this,"  continued  the  woman.  "I  have 
never  seen  anything  like  it  before ;  the  same  mark,  the  same, 
Mademoiselle,  Monsieur;  you  will  each  know  tragedies  in 
your  experience,  and  the  lives  are  linked  together." 

"No!" — and  again  the  Marquise  drew  her  hand  away. 
"It  is  no  longer  amusing,"  she  remarked  in  English,  "when 
those  people  think  it  their  duty  to  pair  couples  off  like  ani 
mals  in  the  ark." 

Her  face  had  flushed,  though  she  tried  to  look  indiffer 
ent.  The  Egyptian  had  stepped  back  and  was  regarding  her 
curiously. 

"Do  not  cross  the  seas,  Mademoiselle ;  all  of  content  will 
be  left  behind  you." 

"Wait,"  and  the  Monsieur  Incognito  put  out  his  hand. 
"You  call  the  lady  'Mademoiselle,'  but  your  guess  has  not 
been  good ;"  and  he  pointed  to  a  plain  ring  on  the  hand  of 
the  Marquise. 

"I  call  her  Mademoiselle  because  she  never  has  been  a 
wife,  and — she  never  will  be  a  wife.  There  are  marriages 
without  wedding  rings,  and  there  are  wedding  rings  without 
marriages ;  pardon ! — "  and  passing  between  the  ferns  and 
palms  she  was  gone. 

"That  is  true !"  half  whispered  the  Marquise,  looking  up 
at  him ;  "her  words  almost  frighten  me." 

"They  need  not,"  and  the  caress  in  his  eyes  made  her 
drop  her  own ;  "all  your  world  of  Paris  knows  the  romance 
of  your  marriage.  You  are  more  of  a  celebrity  than  you 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  73 

may  imagine ;  my  knowledge  of  that  made  me  fear  to  ap 
proach  you  here." 

"The  fear  did  not  last  long,"  and  she  laughed,  the  co 
quetry  of  the  sex  again  uppermost.  "For  how  many  sec 
onds  did  you  tremble  on  the  threshold  ?" 

"Long  enough  to  avoid  any  friends  who  had  planned 
to  present  me." 

"And  why  ?" 

"Lest  it  might  offend  to  have  the  person  thrust  on  you 
whom  you  would  not  know  among  less  ceremonious  sur 
roundings." 

"Yet  you  came  alone?" 

"I  could  not  help  that,  I  had  to  see  you,  even  though  you 
refused  to  recognize  me ;  I  had  to  see  you.  Did  I  not 
prophecy  there  in  the  wood  that  we  should  meet  again? 
Even  the  flowers  you  gave  me  I — " 

"Monsieur,  no  more !"  and  she  rose  from  the  chair  with  a 
certain  decision.  "It  was  a  thoughtless,  childish  farce  played 
there  at  Fontainbleau.  But — it  is  over.  I — I  have  felt  hu 
miliated  by  that  episode,  Monsieur.  Young  ladies  in  France 
do  not  converse  with  strangers.  Pray  go  back  to  England 
and  forget  that  you  found  one  so  indiscreet — oh !  I  know 
what  you  would  say,  Monsieur,"  as  he  was  about  to  speak. 
"I  know  many  of  these  ladies  of  the  court  would  only  laugh 
over  such  an  episode — it  would  be  but  a  part  of  their  amuse 
ments  for  the  day ;  but  I,  I  do  not  belong  to  the  court  or 
their  fashions.  I  am  only  ashamed,  and  ask  that  you  for 
get  it.  I  would  not  want  any  one  to  think — I  mean 
that  I—" 

She  had  commenced  so  bravely  with  her  wise,  firm  little 
speech,  but  at  the  finale  she  wavered  and  broke  down  mis 
erably. 

"Don't !" — he  broke  in  as  a  tear  fell  on  the  fan  she  held ; 


74  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"you  make  me  feel  like  a  brute  who  has  persecuted  you; 
don't  cry.  Come  here  to  the  window;  listen  to  me.  I — I 
loved  you  that  first  day;  you  just  looked  at  me,  spoke  to 
me  and  it  was  all  over  with  me.  I  can't  undo  it.  I  can  go 
away,  and  I  will,  rather  than  make  you  unhappy;  but  I 
can't  forget  you.  I  have  never  forgotten  you  for  an  hour. 
That  was  why.  Oh,  I  know  it  is  the  wildest,  maddest,  most 
unpardonable  thing  I  am  saying  to  you.  Your  friends 
would  want  to  call  me  out  and  shoot  me  for  it,  and  I  shall 
be  happy  to  give  them  the  chance,"  he  added,  grimly. 
"But  don't,  for  Heaven's  sake,  think  that  my  memory  of 
you  would  be  less  than  respectful.  Why,  I — I  adore  you. 
I  am  telling  it  to  you  like  a  fool,  but  I  only  ask  you  to  not 
laugh  until  I  am  out  of  hearing.  I — will  go  now — and  do 
not  even  ask  your  forgiveness,  because — well  I  can't  hon 
estly  say  I  am  sorry." 

Sorry!  She  thought  of  those  days  when  she  had 
wakened  to  a  new  world  because  his  eyes  and  his  voice 
haunted  her;  she  heard  him  acknowledge  the  same  power, 
and  he  spoke  of  forgiveness  as  though  convicted  of  a  fault. 
Well,  she  had  not  been  able  to  prevent  the  same  fault,  so, 
how  dared  she  blame  him?  He  need  not  know,  of  course, 
how  well  she  had  remembered;  yet  she  might  surely  be  a 
little  kind  for  all  that. 

"Monsieur  Incognito !" 

Her  voice  had  an  imperious  tone;  she  remembered  she 
must  not  be  too  kind.  He  was  already  among  the  palms, 
in  the  full  light  of  the  salon,  and  he  was  boy  enough  for  all 
the  color  to  leave  his  face  as  he  heard  the  low  command. 
She  had  heard  him  declare  his  devotion,  yet  she  had  recalled 
him. 

"Madame,"  he  said,  and  stood  stubbornly  the  width  of 
the  alcove  from  her,  though  he  was  conscious  of  all  tender 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  75 

words  rushing  to  his  lips.  She  was  so  adorable ;  a  woman 
in  mentality,  but  the  veriest  girl  as  to  the  emotions  his  words 
had  awakened. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  without  looking  at  him,  "I  do  not 
truly  believe  you  meant  to  offend  me;  therefore  I  have 
nothing  to  forgive." 

"You  angel !"  he  half  whispered,  but  she  heard  him. 

"No,  I  am  not  that,"  and  she  flashed  a  quick  glance  at 
him,  "only  I  think  I  comprehend  you,  and  to  comprehend  is 
to  forgive,  is  it  not?  I — I  cannot  listen  to  the — affection 
you  speak  of.  Love  and  marriage  are  not  for  me.  Did  not 
the  Egyptian  say  it  ?  Yes ;  that  was  quite  true.  But  I  can 
shake  hands  in  good-bye,  Monsieur  Incognito.  Your  Eng 
lish  people  always  do  that,  eh  ?  Well,  so  will  I." 

She  held  out  her  hand ;  he  took  it  in  both  his  own  and  his 
lips  touched  it. 

"No !  no !"  she  said  softly,  and  shook  her  head ;  "that  is 
not  an  English  custom."  He  lifted  his  head  and  looked  at 
her. 

"Why  do  you  call  me  English  ?"  he  asked,  and  she  smiled, 
glad  to  break  that  tenseness  of  feeling  by  some  common 
place. 

"It  was  very  simple,  Monsieur;  first  it  was  the  make  of 
your  hat,  I  read  the  name  of  the  maker  in  the  crown  that  day 
in  the  park ;  then  you  spoke  English ;  you  said  you  had 
just  arrived  from  England  ;  and  the  English  are  so  certain  to 
get  lost  unless  they  go  in  groups — therefore !" 

She  had  enumerated  all  those  reasons  on  her  white  fin 
gers.  She  glanced  at  him,  with  an  adorable  smile  as  a  finale, 
so  confident  she  had  proven  her  case. 

"And  you  French  have  no  fondness  for  the  English  peo 
ple,"  he  said  slowly,  looking  at  her.  "I  wear  an  American 
uniform  tonight ;  suppose  I  am  an  American  ?  I  am  tempted 


76  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

to  disobey  and  tell  you  who  I  am,  in  hopes  you  will  not 
send  me  into  exile  quite  so  soon." 

"No,  no,  no !"  she  breathed  hurriedly.  "You  must  go ; 
and  you  must  remain  Monsieur  Incognito ;  thus  it  will  be 
only  a  comedy,  a  morsel  of  romance.  But  if  I  knew  you 
well — ah!  I  do  not  know  what  it  would  be  then.  I  am 
afraid  to  think.  Yes,  I  confess  it,  Monsieur,  you  make  me 
afraid.  I  tell  myself  you  are  a  foreign  ogre,  yet  when  you 
speak  to  me — ah !" 

She  put  out  her  hands  as  he  came  close.  But  he  knelt  at 
her  feet,  kissing  her  hands,  her  wrists,  the  folds  of  her  dress, 
then  lifted  his  face  glowing,  ardent,  to  her  own. 

"I  shall  make  you  love  me  some  day,"  he  whispered; 
"not  now,  perhaps,  but  some  day." 

She  stared  at  him  without  a  word.  She  had  received 
proposals  of  marriage,  dignified,  ceremonious  affairs  sub 
mitted  to  her  by  the  dowager,  but  from  this  stranger  came 
the  first  avowal  of  love  she  had  ever  listened  to.  A  stranger  ; 
yet  he  held  her  hand ;  she  felt  herself  drawn  towards  him  by 
a  force  she  could  not  combat.  Her  other  arm  was  over  the 
back  of  a  chair,  slowly  she  lifted  it,  then  he  felt  her  hand 
touch  his  hair  and  the  touch  was  a  caress. 

"My  queen !" 

"Go — now,"  she  said  so  lowly  it  was  almost  a  whisper. 
He  arose,  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  turned  away, 
when  a  woman's  voice  spoke  among  the  palms : 

"Did  you  say  in  this  corner,  Madame?  I  have  not  found 
him ;  Kenneth !" 

"It  is  my  mother,"  he  said  softly,  and  was  about  to  draw 
back  the  alcove  draperies  when  the  Marquise  took  a  step 
towards  him,  staring  strangely  into  his  face. 

"Your  Mother?'  and  her  tones  expressed  only  doubt  and 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  77 

dread.  "No,  no !  Why,  I — I  know  the  voice ;  it  is  Madame 
McVeigh ;  she  called  Kenneth,  her  son — " 

He  smiled  an  affirmative. 

"Yes ;  you  will  forgive  me  for  having  my  name  spoken  to 
you  after  all  ?  But  there  seems  to  be  no  help  for  it.  So  you 
see  I  am  not  English  despite  the  hat,  and  my  name  is  Ken 
neth  McVeigh." 

His  smile  changed  to  quick  concern  as  he  noticed  the 
strange  look  on  her  face,  and  the  swaying  movement 
towards  the  chair.  He  put  out  his  hand,  but  she  threw 
herself  back  from  him  with  a  shuddering  movement  of  re 
pulsion. 

And  a  moment  later  the  palms  parted  beside  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  and  she  was  startled  at  sight  of  her  son's  face. 

"Kenneth  !     Why,  what  is  wrong?" 

"A  lady  has  fainted  there  in  the  alcove,"  he  said,  in  a 
voice  which  sounded  strange  to  her ;  "will  you  go  to  her  ?" 

"Fainted?  Why,  Kenneth!—" 

"Yes ;  I  think  it  is  the  Marquise  de  Caron." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  dowager  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  one  evening  of 
complete  social  success  had  changed  her  daughter-in-law 
into  a  woman  of  society.  It  had  modified  her  prejudices. 
She  accepted  invitations  without  her  former  protests,  and 
was  only  careful  that  the  people  whom  she  visited  should  be 
of  the  most  distinguished. 

Dumaresque  watched  her  with  interest.  There  seemed 
much  of  deliberation  back  of  every  move  she  made.  The 
men  of  mark  were  the  only  ones  to  Avhom  she  gave  encour 
agement,  and  she  found  several  so  responsive  that  there  was 

6 


78  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

no  doubt,  now,  as  to  whether  she  was  awake  to  her  own 
power — more,  she  had  a  mind  to  use  it.  She  was  spoken 
of  as  one  of  the  beauties  of  the  day. 

The  McVeighs  had  gone  to  Italy,  the  mother  to  visit  a 
relative,  the  son  to  view  the  late  battle  fields  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Pyrenees  and  acquaint  himself  with  military  mat 
ters  wherever  he  found  them. 

He  had  called  on  the  Marquise  the  day  following  the  fete 
at  the  Hotel  Dulac.  She  had  quite  recovered  her  slight 
indisposition  of  the  preceding  evening,  and  there  had  been 
no  hesitation  about  receiving  him.  She  was  alone,  and  she 
met  him  with  the  fine,  cool,  gracious  manner  reserved  for 
the  people  who  were  of  no  importance  in  her  life. 

Looking  at  her,  listening  to  her,  he  could  scarcely  believe 
this  could  be  the  girl  who  had  provoked  him  into  a  decla 
ration  of  love  less  than  a  day  ago,  and  in  whose  eyes  he 
had  surprised  a  fervor  responding  to  his  own.  She  called 
him  Lieutenant  McVeigh,  with  an  utter  disregard  of  the 
fact  that  she  had  ever  called  him  anything  else. 

When  in  sheer  desperation  he  referred  to  their  first  meet 
ing,  she  listened  with  a  chill  little  smile. 

"Yes,"  she  agreed;  "Fontainbleau  was  beautiful  in  the 
spring  time.  Maman  was  especially  fond  of  it.  She,  her 
self,  had  been  telling  a  friend  lately  of  the  very  unconven 
tional  meeting  under  the  bushes  of  the  Mademoiselle  and 
Monsieur  Incognito,  and  he — the  friend — had  thought  it 
delightfully  amusing,  good  enough  for  the  thread  of  a 
comedy." 

Then  she  sent  some  kindly  message  to  Mrs.  McVeigh, 
but  refused  to  see  the  wonder — the  actual  pain — in  the  eyes 
where  before  she  had  remembered  those  half  slumberous 
smiles,  or  that  brief  space  of  passionate  pleading.  He  inter 
rupted  some  cool  remark  by  rising. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  79 

"It  is  scarcely  worth  while — all  this,"  he  said,  abruptly. 
"Had  you  closed  your  doors  against  me  after  last  night  I 
should  have  understood — I  should  have  gone  away  adoring 
you  just  the  same.  But  to  open  them,  to  receive  me,  and 
then—" 

His  voice  trembled  in  spite  of  himself.  All  at  once  he 
appeared  so  much  more  boyish  than  ever  before — so  help 
less  in  a  sort  of  misery  he  could  not  account  for,  she  turned 
away  her  head. 

"With  the  ocean  between  us  my  love  could  not  have 
hurt  you.  You  might  have  let  me  keep  that."  He  had 
recovered  control  of  his  voice  and  his  eyes  swept  over  her 
from  head  to  foot  like  blue  lightning.  "I  bid  you  good-day, 
Madame." 

She  made  an  inclination  of  the  head,  but  did  not  speak. 
She  had  reached  the  limit  of  her  self  control.  His  words, 
"You  might  have  let  me  keep  that,"  were  an  accusation  she 
dared  not  discuss. 

When  the  door  closed  behind  him  she  could  see  nothing, 
for  the  blur  of  tears  in  her  eyes.  Madame  La  Marquise 
received  no  other  callers  that  day. 

In  the  days  following  she  compared  him  with  the  cour 
tiers,  the  diplomats,  the  very  clever  men  whom  she  met,  and 
told  herself  he  was  only  a  boy — a  cadet  of  twenty-two.  Why 
should  she  remember  his  words,  or  forget  for  one  instant 
that  infamy  with  which  his  name  was  connected? 

"He  goes  on  his  knees  to  me  only  because  he  has  grown 
weary  of  the  slave-women  of  the  plantations,"  she  told  her 
self  in  deepest  disgust.  Sometimes  she  would  look  curiously 
at  the  hands  once  covered  by  his  kisses.  And  once  she 
threw  a  withered  bunch  of  forget-me-nots  from  her  window, 
at  night,  and  crept  down  at  daybreak  next  morning  and 
found  it,  and  took  it  back  to  her  room. 


80  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

It  looked  as  though  the  boy  was  holding  his  own  despite 
the  diplomats. 

When  she  saw  him  again  it  was  at  an  auction  of  articles 
donated  for  a  charity  under  the  patronage  of  the  Empress, 
and  open  to  the  public.  Cotton  stuffs  justled  my  lady's 
satins,  and  the  half-world  stared  at  short  range  into  the 
faces  whose  owners  claimed  coronets. 

Many  leading  artists  had  donated  sketches  of  their  more 
pretentious  work.  It  was  to  that  department  the  Marquise 
made  her  way,  and  entering  the  gallery  by  a  side  door,  found 
that  the  crowd  had  separated  her  from  the  Countess  Biron 
and  the  rest  of  their  party. 

Knowing  that  sooner  or  later  they  would  find  her  there, 
she  halted,  examining  some  choice  bits  of  color  near  the 
door.  A  daintily  dressed  woman,  who  looked  strangely  fa 
miliar,  was  standing  near  with  apparently  the  same  intent. 
But  she  stood  so  still;  and  the  poise  of  her  head  betrayed 
that  she  was  listening  to  something.  The  sounds  came  from 
a  group  of  men  back  of  them,  where  the  black  and  white 
sketches  were  on  exhibition.  The  corridor  was  not  wide, 
and  their  conversation  was  in  English  and  not  difficult  to 
understand  if  one  gave  attention.  The  Marquise  noted  that 
Dumaresque  was  among  them,  and  they  stood  before  his 
donation  of  sketches,  of  which  the  principal  one  was  a  little 
study  of  the  octoroon  dancer,  Kora. 

Then  in  a  flash  she  understood  who  the  person  was  who 
listened.  She  was  the  original  of  the  picture,  drawn  there 
no  doubt  by  a  sort  of  vanity  to  hear  the  artistic  praise,  or 
personal  comment.  But  a  swift  glance  showed  her  it  had 
been  a  mistake ;  the  dark  brows  were  frowning,  the  full  lip 
was  bitten  nervously,  and  the  small  ungloved  hand  was 
clenched. 

The  men  were  laughing  carelessly  over  some  argument, 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  81 

not  noticing  that  they  had  a  listener;  the  people  moving 
along  the  corridor,  single  and  in  groups,  hid  the  two  who 
remained  stationary,  and  whose  backs  were  towards  them. 
It  was  most  embarrassing,  and  the  Marquise  was  about  to 
move  away  when  she  heard  a  voice  there  was  no  mistaking 
— the  voice  she  had  not  been  able  to  forget. 

"No,  I  don't  agree  with  you;"  he  was  saying,  "and  you 
would  not  find  half  so  much  to  admire  in  the  work  if  the 
subject  were  some  old  plantation  mammy  equally  well 
painted.  Come  over  and  see  them  where  they  grow.  After 
that  you  will  not  be  making  celebrities  of  them."  . 

"If  they  grow  many  like  that  I  am  most  willing,  Mon 
sieur." 

"I,  too.  When  do  we  start?  I  can  fancy  no  land  so  well 
worth  a  visit  but  that  of  Mohammed." 

The  first  speaker  uttered  an  exclamation  of  annoyance, 
but  the  others  laughed. 

"Oh,  we  have  seen  other  men  of  your  land  here,"  re 
marked  Dumaresque.  "They  are  not  all  so  discreet  as  your 
self.  We  have  learned  that  they  do  not  usually  build  high 
walls  between  themselves  and  pretty  slaves." 

"You  are  right,"  agreed  the  American.  "Sorry  I  can't 
contradict  you.  But  these  gorgeous  Koras  and  Phrynes 
remind  me  of  a  wild  blossom  in  our  country ;  it  is  exquisite 
in  form,  beautiful  to  the  eye,  but  poison  if  touched  to  the 
lips.  It  is  called  the  yellow  jasmine." 

"No  doubt  you  are  right,"  remarked  one  of  the  men  as 
Kora  dropped  her  veil  over  her  face.  "You  are  at  all  events 
poetical." 

"And  the  reason  of  their  depravity  ?" 

"The  fact  that  they  are  the  outgrowth  of  the  worst  pas 
sions  of  both  races — at  least  so  I  have  heard  it  said  by  men 
who  make  more  of  a  study  of  such  questions  than  I." 


82  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

A  party  of  people  moved  between  the  two  women  and 
the  speakers.  The  Marquise  heard  Kora  draw  a  sobbing 
breath.  She  hesitated  an  instant,  her  own  eyes  flashing,  her 
cheeks  burning.  He  to  sit  in  judgment  on  others — he !" 

Then  she  laid  her  hand  on  the  wrist  of  Kora. 

"Come  with  me,"  she  said,  softly,  in  English,  and  the 
girl  with  one  glance  of  tear-wet  eyes,  obeyed. 

The  Marquise  opened  the  door  beside  her,  a  few  steps 
further  and  another  door  led  into  an  ante-room  belonging 
to  a  portion  of  the  building  closed  for  repairs. 

"Why  do  you  weep?"  she  asked  briefly,  but  the  kindly 
clasp  of  her  wrist  told  that  the  questioner  was  not  without 
sympathy,  and  the  girl  strove  to  compose  herself  while  star 
ing  at  the  other  in  amazement. 

"You — I  have  seen  you — I  remember  you,"  she  said, 
wonderingly,  "the  Marquise  de  Caron !" 

"Yes ;"  the  face  of  the  Marquise  flushed,  "and  you  are 
the  dancer — Kora.  Why  did  you  weep  at  their  words  ?" 

"Since  you  know  who  I  am,  Madame,  I  need  not  hesitate 
to  tell  you  more,"  she  said,  though  she  did  hesitate,  and 
looked  up,  deprecatingly,  to  the  Marquise,  who  stood  a  few 
paces  away  leaning  against  the  window. 

There  was  only  one  chair  in  the  room.  Kora  perceived 
for  the  first  time  that  it  had  been  given  to  her  while  the 
Marquise  stood.  She  arose  to  her  feet,  and  with  a  deference 
that  lent  a  subtile  grace  to  her  expression,  offered  it  to  her 
questioner. 

"No;  resume  your  seat;"  the  command  was  a  trifle  im 
perious,  but  it  was  softened  the  next  instant  by  the  smile 
with  which  she  said:  "A  dear  old  lady  taught  me  that  to 
the  burdened  horse  we  should  always  give  the  right  of  way. 
We  must  make  easier  the  way  of  those  who  bear  sorrows. 
You  have  the  sorrow  today — what  is  it  ?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  83 

"I  am  not  surd  that  you  will  understand,  Madame,"  and 
the  girl's  velvety  black  eyes  lifted  and  then  sought  the  floor 
again.  "But  you,  perhaps,  heard  what  they  said  out  there, 
and  the  man  I — I — well,  he  was  there." 

The  lips  of  the  Marquise  grew  a  trifle  rigid,  but  Kora 
was  too  much  engaged  with  her  own  emotion  to  per 
ceive  it. 

"I  suppose  I  shouldn't  speak  of  him  to  a — a  lady  who 
can't  understand  people  who  live  in  a  different  sort  of  world. 
But  you  mean  to  be  kind,  and  I  suppose  have  some  reason 
for  asking?"  and  she  glanced  at  the  lady  in  the  window. 
"So—" 

The  Marquise  looked  at  her  carefully;  yes,  the  girl  was 
undeniably  handsome;  a  medium  sized,  well-turned  figure, 
small  hands  and  feet,  graceful  in  movement,  velvety  oriental 
eyes,  and  the  deep  cream  complexion  over  which  the  artists 
had  raved.  She  had  the  manner  of  one  well  trained,  but 
was  strangely  diffident  before  this  lady  of  the  other  world. 
The  Marquise  drew  a  deep  breath  as  she  realized  how  at 
tractive  she  could  be  to  a  man  who  cared. 

"You  are  a  fool,"  she  said,  harshly,  "to  care  for  a  man 
who  speaks  so  of  your  people." 

"Oh,  Madame !"  and  the  graceful  form  drooped  helplessly. 
"I  knew  you  could  never  understand.  But  if  folks  only 
loved  where  it  was  wise  to  love,  all  the  trouble  of  the  world 
would  be  ended." 

The  hand  of  the  Marquise  went  to  her  throat  for  an  in 
stant. 

"And  then  it  is  true,  all  they  said  there,"  continued  Kora ; 
"that  is  why — why  I  had  let  you  see  me  cry ;  what  he  said 
is  true — and  I — I  belong  in  his  country  where  the  yellow 
jasmine  grows.  There  are  times  when  I  never  stop  to  think 
— weeks  when  I  am  satisfied  that  I  have  money  and  a  fine 


84  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

apartment.  Then,  all  at  once,  in  a  minute  like  this,  I  see 
that  it  does  not  weigh  down  the  one  drop  of  black  blood  in 
my  hand  there.  Sometimes  I  would  sell  my  soul  to  wipe  it 
out,  and  I  can't !  I  can't !" 

Her  emotions  were  again  overwhelming  her.  The  Mar 
quise  watched  her  clench  the  shapely  hands  with  their  taper 
ing  fingers  and  many  rings,  the  pretty  graceful  bit  of  human 
furniture  in  an  establishment  for  such  as  he\ 

"An  oriental  prince  was  entertained  by  the  Empress  last 
week,"  she  remarked,  abruptly.  "His  mother  was  a  black 
woman,  yours  was  not." 

"I  know ;  I  try  to  understand  it — all  the  difference  that  is 
made.  I  can't  do  it;  I  have  not  the  brain.  I  can  only" — 
and  she  smiled  bitterly — "only  learn  to  dance  a  little,  and 
you  don't  need  brain  for  that.  My  God !  How  can  they 
expect  us  to  have  brain  when  our  mothers  and  grandmoth 
ers  had  to  live  under  laws  forbidding  a  slave  to  dispute  any 
command  of  a  white  man?  Madame,  ladies  like  you — la 
dies  of  France — could  not  understand.  I  could  not  tell  you. 
Sometimes  I  think  money  is  all  that  can  help  you  in  this 
world.  But  even  money  can't  kill  the  poison  he  spoke  of. 
We  might  be  free  for  generations  but  the  curse  would 
stay  on  us,  because  away  back  in  the  past  our  people  had 
been  slaves." 

"So  have  the  ancestors  of  those  men  you  listened  to," 
said  the  Marquise,  and  the  girl  looked  at  her  wonderingly. 

"Theyl     Why,  Madame!" 

"It  is  quite  true.  Everyone  of  them  is  the  descendant  of 
slaves  of  the  past.  Every  ancient  race  was  at  some  time  the 
slaves  of  some  stronger  nation.  Many  of  the  masters  of  to 
day  are  the  descendants  of  people  who  were  bought  and 
sold  with  the  land  for  hundreds  of  years.  Think  of  that 
when  they  taunt  you  with  slavery!" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  85 

"Oh!    Madame!" 

"And  remember  that  every  king  and  queen  of  Egypt  for 
centuries,  every  one  told  of  in  their  bibles  and  histories, 
would  look  black  beside  the  woman  who  was  your  mother ! 
Chut !  do  not  look  so  startled !  The  Caucassian  of  today  is 
now  believed  by  men  of  science  to  be  only  a  bleached  negro. 
To  be  sure,  it  has  taken  thousands  of  years,  and  the  ice 
fields  and  cave  dwellings  of  the  North  to  do  the  bleaching. 
But  man  came  originally  from  the  Orient,  the  very  womb 
of  the  earth  from  which  only  creatures  of  color  come  forth." 

"You! — a  white  lady!  a  noble!  say  this  to  comfort  me; 
why  ?"  asked  the  girl.  She  had  risen  again  and  stood  back 
of  the  chair.  She  looked  half  frightened. 

"I  say  it  because,  if  you  study  such  questions  earnestly, 
you  will  perceive  how  the  opinion  of  those  self-crowned 
judges  will  dwindle;  they  will  no  longer  loom  above  you 
because  of  your  race.  My  child,  you  are  as  royal  as  they  by 
nature.  It  is  the  cultivation,  the  training,  the  intellect  built 
up  through  generations,  by  which  they  are  your  superiors 
today.  If  your  own  life  is  commendable  you  need  not  be 
ashamed  because  of  your  race." 

Kora  turned  her  head  away,  fingering  the  rings  on  her 
pretty  hands. 

"You — it  is  no  use  trying  to  make  a  lady  like  you  under 
stand,"  she  muttered,  "but  you  know  who  I  am,  and  it  is 
too  late  now !" 

She  attempted  to  speak  with  the  nonchalance  customary 
to  her,  but  the  entire  interview,  added  to  the  conversation 
in  the  corrider,  had  touched  depths  seldom  stirred,  and 
never  before  appealed  to  by  a  woman.  What  other  woman 
would  have  dared  question  her  like  that?  And  it  was  not 
that  she  had  been  awed  by  the  rank  and  majesty  in  which 
this  Marquise  moved ;  she,  Kora — who  had  laughed  in  the 


86  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

face  of  a  Princess  whose  betrothed  was  seen  in  Kora's  car 
riage  !  No ;  it  was  not  the  rank,  it  was  the  gentle,  yet 
slightly  imperious  womanliness,  back  of  which  could  be 
felt  a  fund  of  sympathy  new  and  strange  to  her ;  it  appealed 
to  her  as  the  reasoning  of  a  man  would  appeal ;  and  man 
was  the  only  compelling  force  hitherto  acknowledged  by 
Kora. 

The  Marquise  looked  at  her  thoughtfully,  but  did  not 
speak.  She  was  too  much  of  a  girl  herself  to  understand 
entirely  the  nature  before  her  or  its  temptations.  They 
looked,  really,  about  the  same  age,  yet  for  all  the  mentality 
of  the  Marquise,  she  knew  Kora  was  right — the  world  of 
emotions  that  was  an  open  book  to  the  bewitching  octoroon 
was  an  unknown  world  to  her. 

"The  things  I  do  not  understand  I  will  not  presume  to 
judge,"  she  said,  at  last,  very  gently;  "but  is  there  no  one 
anywhere  in  this  world  whose  affection  for  you  would  be 
strong  enough  to  help  you  live  away  from  these  people  who 
speak  of  you  as  those  men  spoke,  yet  who  are  themselves 
accountable  for  the  faults  over  which  they  laugh  together." 

"Oh,  what  you  have  said  has  turned  me  against  that 
Trouvelot — that  dandy !"  she  said,  with  a  certain  vehemence. 
"He  is  only  a  Count  of  yesterday,  after  all;  I'll  remember 
that !  Still ;  it  is  all  the  habit  of  life,  Madame,  and  I  never 
new  any  other.  Look  here ;  when  I  was  twelve  I  was  told 
by  an  old  woman  to  be  careful  of  my  hands,  of  my  good 
looks  every  way,  for  if  I  was  handsome  as  my  mother,  I 
.would  never  need  to  do  housework;  that  was  the  begin 
ning  !  Well !"  and  she  smiled  bitterly,  "I  have  not  had  to 
do  it,  but  it  was  through  no  planning  of  theirs." 

"And  your  mother  ?" 

"Dead;  and  my  father,  too.     He  was  her  master." 

"It  is  that  spendthrift — Trouvelot,  you  care  for?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  87 

"Not  this  minute,"  confessed  the  girl;  "but,"  and  she 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  "I  probably  shall  tomorrow!  I 
know  myself  well  enough  for  that ;  and  I  won't  lie — to  you ! 
You  saw  how  he  could  make  me  cry?  It  is  only  the  man 
we  care  for  who  can  hurt  us." 

The  Marquise  did  not  reply ;  she  was  staring  out  of  the 
window.  Kora,  watching  her,  did  not  know  if  she  heard. 
She  had  heard  and  was  angry  with  herself  that  her  heart 
grew  lighter  when  she  heard  the  name  of  Kora's  lover. 

"I — I  will  not  intrude  longer,  Madame,"  said  the  girl  at 
last.  "What  you've  said  will  make  me  think  more.  I 
never  heard  of  what  you've  told  me  today.  I  wish  there 
were  women  in  America  like  you;  oh,  I  wish  there  were! 
There  are  good  white  ladies  there,  of  course,  but  they  don't 
teach  the  slaves  to  think ;  they  only  tell  them  to  have  faith ! 
They  teach  them  from  their  bible ;  and  all  I  could  ever  re 
member  of  it  was :  'Servants,  obey  your  masters ;'  and  I 
hated  it.  So  you  see,  Madame,  it  is  too  late  for  me ;  I  don't 
know  any  other  life ;  I — " 

"I  will  help  you  to  a  different  life  whenever  you  are  will 
ing  to  leave  Paris,"  said  the  Marquise. 

"You  would  do  that,  Madame?" 

Kora  dropped  into  the  chair  again,  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands.  After  a  little  she  looked  up,  and  the  cunning  of 
her  class  was  in  her  eyes. 

"Is  it  to  separate  me  from  him?"  she  asked,  bluntly.  "I 
know  they  want  him  to  marry ;  are  you  a  friend  of  his  fam 
ily?" 

The  Marquise  smiled  at  that. 

"I  really  do  not  know  if  he  has  a  family,"  she  replied.  "I 
am  interested  because  it  seems  so  pitiful  that  a  girl  should 
never  have  had  a  chance  to  live  commendably.  It  is  not 
too  late.  In  your  own  country  a  person  of  your  intelligence 


88  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  education  should  be  able  to  do  much  good  among  the 
children  of  the  free  colored  people.  You  would  be  es 
teemed.  You — " 

"Esteemed!"  Kora  smiled  skeptically,  thinking  no 
doubt  of  the  half-world  circle  over  which  she  was  a  power 
in  her  adopted  city;  she,  who  had  only  to  show  herself  in 
the  spectacle  to  make  more  money  than  a  year's  earnings 
in  American  school  teaching.  She  knew  she  could  not 
really  dance,  but  she  did  pose  in  a  manner  rather  good ;  and 
then,  her  beauty ! 

"I  was  a  fool  when  I  came  here — to  Paris,"  she  said  woe 
fully.  "I  thought  everybody  would  know  I  was  colored,  so 
I  told.  But  they  would  not  know,"  and  she  held  out  her 
hand,  looking  at  the  white  wrist,  "I  could  have  said  I  was 
a  West  Indian,  a  Brazilian,  or  a  Spanish  Creole — as  many 
others  do.  But  it  is  all  too  late.  America  was  never  kind 
to  my  people,  or  me.  You  mean  to  be  kind,  Madame ;  but 
you  don't  know  colored  folks.  They  would  be  the  first  to 
resent  my  educational  advantages ;  not  that  I  know  much ; 
books  were  hard  work  for  me,  and  Paris  was  the  only  one  I 
could  learn  to  read  easy.  As  for  America,  I  own  up,  I'm 
afraid  of  America." 

The  Marquise  thought  she  knew  why,  but  only  said: 

"If  you  change  your  mind  you  can  let  me  know.  I  have 
a  property  in  New  Orleans.  Some  day  I  may  go  there.  I 
could  protect  you  if  you  would  help  protect  yourself."  She 
looked  at  the  lovely  octoroon  with  meaning,  and  the  black 
velvety  eyes  fell  under  that  regard. 

"You  can  always  learn  where  I  am  in  Paris,  and  if  you 
should  change  your  mind — "  At  the  door  she  paused  and 
said  kindly:  "My  poor  girl,  if  you  remain  here  he  will 
break  your  heart." 

"They  usually  do  when  a  woman  loves  them,  Madame," 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  89 

replied  Kora,  with  a  sad  little  smile;  she  had  learned  so 
much  in  the  book  of  Paris. 

The  friends  of  the  Marquise  were  searching  for  her  when 
she  emerged  from  the  ante-room.  The  Countess  Biron 
confessed  herself  in  despair. 

"In  such  a  mixed  assembly!  and  all  alone!  How  was 
one  to  know  what  people  you  might  meet,  or  what  adven 
tures." 

"Oh,  I  am  not  adventurous,  Countess,"  was  the  smiling 
reply ;  "and  let  me  whisper :  I  have  been  talking  all  of 
the  time  with  one  person,  one  very  pretty  person,  and  it  has 
been  an  instructive  half  hour." 

"Pretty?  Well,  that  is  assurance  as  to  sex,"  remarked 
Madame  Choudey,  with  a  glance  towards  one  of  the  others 
of  the  party. 

"And  if  you  will  watch  that  door  you  will  be  enlightened 
as  to  the  individual,"  said  the  Marquise. 

Three  pair  of  eyes  turned  with  alertness  to  the  door.  At 
that  moment  it  opened,  and  Kora  appeared.  The  lace  veil 
no  longer  hid  her  beautiful  eyes — all  the  more  lovely  for 
that  swift  bath  of  tears.  She  saw  the  Marquise  and  her 
friends,  but  passed  as  if  she  had  never  seen  one  of  them 
before ;  Kora  had  her  own  code. 

"Are  you  serious,  Judithe  de  Caron?"  gasped  the  Coun 
tess  Helene.  "Were  you  actually — conversing — with  that 
- — demi-mondaine  ?" 

"My  dear  Marquise!"  purred  Madame  Choudey,  "when 
she  does  not  even  pretend  to  be  respectable!"" 

"It  is  because  she  does  not  pretend  that  I  spoke  with  her. 
Honesty  should  receive  some  notice." 

"Honesty !  Good  heavens !"  cried  Madame  Ampere,  who 
had  not  yet  spoken,  but  who  expressed  horror  by  her  eyes, 


90  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"where  then  do  you  find  your  standards  for  such  judg~ 
ment?" 

"Now,  listen !"  and  the  Marquise  turned  to  the  three  with 
a  quizzical  smile,  "if  Kora  lived  exactly  the  same  life  mor 
ally,  but  was  a  ruler  of  the  fashionable  world,  instead  of  the 
other  one ;  if  she  wore  a  crown  of  state  instead  of  the  tinsel 
of  the  varieties,  you  would  not  exclaim  if  she  addressed  me." 

"Oh,  I  must  protest,  Marquise,"  began  Madame  Ampere 
in  shocked  remonstrance,  but  the  Marquise  smiled  and 
stopped  her. 

"Yesterday,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  saw  you  in  conversation 
with  a  man  who  has  the  panels  of  his  carriage  emblazoned 
with  the  Hydrangea — also  called  the  Hortensia." 

The  shocked  lady  looked  uncomfortable. 

"What  then  ?  since  it  was  the  Emperor's  brother." 

"Exactly ;  the  brother  of  the  Emperor,  and  both  of  them 
the  sons  of  a  mother  beside  whom  beautiful  Kora  is  a  thing 
of  chastity." 

"The  children  could  not  help  the  fact  that  they  were  all 
half-brothers,"  laughed  the  Countess  Helene. 

"But  this  so-called  Duke  could  help  parading  the  doubt 
ful  honor  of  his  descent ;  yet  who  fails  to  return  his  bow  ? 
And  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  his  mother  was  ignored  by  the 
ladies  of  her  day.  Those  Hortensias  on  his  carriage  are 
horrible  to  me ;  they  are  an  attempt  to  exalt  in  a  queen  the 
immorality  condemned  in  a  subject." 

"Ah !  You  make  my  head  swim  with  your  theories,"  con 
fessed  the  Countess.  "How  do  you  find  time  to  study  them 
all?" 

"They  require  no  study;  one  meets  them  daily  in  the 
street  or  court.  The  difficulty  is  to  cease  thinking  of  them 
— to  enjoy  a  careless  life  when  justice  is  always  calling 
somewhere  for  help." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  91 

"I  refuse  to  be  annoyed  by  the  calls,  yet  am  comfortable," 
said  Madame  Choudey.  "The  people  who  imagine  they 
hear  justice  calling  have  had,  too  often,  to  follow  the  calls 
into  exile." 

"That  is  true,"  agreed  her  friend;  "take  care  Marquise! 
Your  theories  are  very  interesting,  but,  truly,  you  are  a 
revolutionist." 

Their  little  battle  of  words  did  not  prevent  them  parting 
with  smiles  and  all  pleasantry.  But  the  Countess  Biron,  to 
whose  house  the  Marquise  was  going,  grimaced  and  looked 
at  her  with  a  smile  of  doubt  when  they  were  alone. 

"Do  you  realize  how  daring  you  are  Judithe? — to  succeed 
socially  you  should  not  appeal  to  the  brains  of  people,  but 
to  their  vanities." 

"Farewell,  my  social  ambitions !"  laughed  the  Marquise. 
"Dear  Countess,  pray  do  not  scold !  I  could  not  help  it. 
Why  must  the  very  respectable  world  see  only  the  sins  of 
the  unfortunate,  and  save  all  their  charity  for  the  heads  with 
coronets?  Maman  is  not  like  that;  she  is  always  gentle 
with  the  people  who  have  never  been  taught  goodness ; 
though  she  is  severe  on  those  who  disgrace  good  training. 
I  like  her  way  best ;  and  Alain  ?  Well,  he  only  told  me  to 
do  my  own  thinking,  to  be  sure  I  was  right  before  I  spoke, 
and  to  let  no  other  consideration  weigh  at  all." 

"Yes !  and  he  died  in  exile  because  he  let  no  worldly 
consideration  weigh,"  said  the  Countess  Helene  grimly. 


92  THE  BONDWOMAN. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  gallery  the  Marquise  saw  Dumar- 
esque  on  the  step,  and  with  him  Kenneth  McVeigh.  She 
entered  the  carriage,  hoping  the  Countess  would  not  per 
ceive  them;  but  the  hope  was  in  vain,  she  did,  and  she 
motioned  them  both  to  her  to  learn  if  Mrs.  McVeigh  had 
also  unexpectedly  returned. 

She  had  not.  Italy  was  yet  attractive  to  her,  and  the 
Lieutenant  had  come  alone.  He  was  to  await  her  arrival, 
whenever  she  chose,  and  then  their  holiday  would  be  over. 
When  they  left  Paris  again  it  would  be  for  America. 

He  smiled  in  the  same  lazy,  yet  deferential  way,  as  the 
Countess  chatted  and  questioned  him.  He  confessed  he  did 
not  remember  why  he  had  returned ;  at  least  he  could  not 
tell  in  a  crowd,  or  with  cynical  Dumaresque  listening  to 
him. 

"Invite  him  home,  and  he  will  vow  it  was  to  see  you," 
said  the  artist. 

"I  mean  to,"  she  retorted ;  "but  do  not  judge  all  men  by 
yourself,  Monsier  Loris,  for  I  suspect  Lieutenant  McVeigh 
has  a  conscience." 

"I  have,"  he  acknowledged,  "too  much  of  one  to  take 
advantage  of  your  invitation.  Some  day,  when  you  are  not 
tired  from  the  crowds,  I  shall  come,  if  you  will  allow  me." 

"No,  no;  come  now!"  insisted  the  Countess,  impulsively; 
"you  will  rest  me ;  I  assure  you  it  is  true !  We  have  been 
with  women — women  all  morning!  So  take  pity  on  us. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  93 

We  want  to  hear  all  about  the  battle  grounds  and  fortresses 
you  were  to  inspect.  The  Marquise,  especially,  is  a  lover  of 
wars." 

"And  of  warriors?"  queried  Dumaresque;  but  the  Coun 
tess  paid  no  attention  to  him. 

"Yes,  she  is  really  a  revolutionist,  Monsieur ;  so  come  and 
enlighten  us  as  to  the  latest  methods  of  those  amiable  pa 
triots." 

The  Marquise  had  given  him  a  gracious  little  bow,  and 
had  politely  shown  interest  in  their  remarks  to  such  an  ex 
tent  that  the  Countess  did  not  notice  her  silence.  But  dur 
ing  the  brief  glance  she  noticed  that  the  blue  eyes  had  dark 
circles  under  them,  but  they  were  steady  for  all  that.  He 
looked  tired,  but  he  also  looked  more  the  master  of  himself 
than  when  they  last  met ;  she  need  fear  no  further  pleading. 

The  Countess  prevailed,  and  he  entered  the  carriage. 
Dumaresque  was  also  invited,  but  was  on  some  committee 
of  arrangements  and  could  not  leave. 

As  they  were  about  to  drive  away  the  Marquise  called 
him. 

"Oh,  Monsieur  Loris,  one  moment!  I  want  the  black 
and  white  sketch  of  your  Kora.  Pray  have  it  bid  in  for 
me." 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  called  him  Loris,  except 
in  her  own  home,  and  as  a  partial  echo  of  the  dowager. 
His  eyes  thanked  her,  and  Kenneth  McVeigh  received  the 
benefit  both  of  her  words  and  the  look. 

"But,  my  dear  Marquise,  it  will  give  me  pleasure  to  make 
you  something  finer  of  the  same  subject." 

"No,  no ;  only  the  sketch.  I  will  value  it  as  a  souvenir 
of — well — do  not  let  any  one  else  have  it." 

Then  she  bowed,  flashed  a  rare  smile  at  him,  and  they 
wheeled  away  with  McVeigh  facing  her  and  noting  with  his 
7 


94  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

careless  smile  every  expression  of  her  coquetry.  He  had 
gone  away  a  boy — so  she  had  called  him ;  but  he  had  come 
back  man  enough  to  hide  the  hurts  she  gave  him,  and  will 
ing  to  let  her  know  it. 

Someway  he  appeared  more  as  he  had  when  she  met  him 
first  under  the  beeches;  then  he  had  seemed  so  big,  so 
strong,  so  masterful,  that  she  had  never  thought  of  his 
years.  But  she  knew  now  he  was  younger  than  he  looked. 

She  had  plenty  of  time  to  think  of  this,  and  of  many  other 
things,  during  the  drive. 

The  Countess  monopolized  the  young  officer  with  her 
questions.  He  endeavored  to  make  the  replies  she  invited, 
and  neither  of  them  appeared  to  note  that  the  share  of  the 
Marquise  was  limited  to  an  interested  expression,  and  an 
occasional  smile. 

She  studied  his  well-formed,  strong  hands,  and  thought 
of  the  night  they  had  held  her  own — thought  of  all  the  im 
petuous,  passionate  words ;  try  as  she  would  to  drive  them 
away  they  came  back  with  a  rush  as  his  cool,  widely  differ 
ent  tones  fell  on  her  ear.  What  a  dissembler  the  fellow 
was !  All  that  evil  nature  which  she  knew  about  was  hid 
den  under  an  exterior  so  engaging!  "//  one  only  loved 
zvhere  it  was  -wise  to  love,  all  the  sorrows  of  the  world  would 
be  ended,"  those  words  of  the  pretty  figureante  haunted  her, 
with  all  their  meaning  beating  through  her  brain.  What  a 
farce  seemed  the  careless,  empty  chatter  beside  her!  It 
grew  unbearable,  to  feel  his  careless  glance  sweep  across 
her  face,  to  hear  him  laugh  carelessly,  to  be  conscious  of  the 
fact  that  after  all  he  was  the  stronger;  he  could  face  her 
easily,  graciously,  and  she  did  not  dare  even  meet  his  eyes 
lest  he  should,  after  all,  see;  the  thought  of  her  weakness 
frightened  her;  suppose  he  should  compel  her  to  the  truth. 
Suppose — 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  95 

She  felt  half  hysterical ;  the  drive  had  never  before  been 
so  long.  She  feared  she  must  scream — do  something  to 
break  through  this  horrible  chain  of  circumstances,  linking 
them  for  even  so  short  a  space  within  touch  of  each  other. 
And  he  was  the  man  she  had  promised  herself  to  hate,  to 
make  suffer,  to — 

Some  one  did  scream ;  but  it  was  the  Countess.  Out  of 
a  side  street  came  a  runaway  team,  a  shouting  man  herald 
ing  their  approach.  At  that  point  street  repairs  had  left 
only  a  narrow  carriage-way,  and  a  wall  of  loose  stone ;  there 
was  no  time  to  get  out  of  the  way ;  no  room  to  turn.  There 
was  a  collision,  a  crash !  The  horses  of  the  Countess  leaped 
aside,  the  right  front  wheel  struck  the  heap  of  stone,  fling 
ing  the  driver  from  his  seat.  He  fell,  and  did  not  move 
again. 

At  that  sight  the  Countess  uttered  a  gasp  and  sank  to  the 
bottom  of  the  carriage.  The  Marquise  stooped  over  her 
only  for  an  instant,  while  the  carriage  righted  itself  and  all 
four  wheels  were  on  a  level  once  more;  the  horses  alone 
had  been  struck,  and  were  maddened  with  fear,  and  in  that 
madness  lay  their  only  danger  now. 

She  lifted  her  head,  and  the  man  opposite,  in  her  instant 
of  shrinking,  had  leaped  over  the  back  of  the  seat  to  secure 
the  lines  of  the  now  thoroughly  wild  animals. 

One  line  was  dragging  between  them  on  the  ground. 
Someway  he  maintained  his  footing  on  the  carriage  pole 
long  enough  to  secure  the  dragging  line,  and  when  he 
gained  the  driver's  seat  the  Marquise  was  beside  him. 

She  knew  what  lay  before  them,  and  he  did  not — a  dan 
gerous  curve,  a  steep  embankment — and  they  had  passed 
the  last  street  where  they  could  have  turned  into  a  less  dan 
gerous  thoroughfare. 

People  ran  out  and  threw  up  their  hands  and  shouted. 


96  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

She  heard  him  fling  an  oath  at  them  for  adding  fury  to  the 
maddened  animals. 

"It  is  no  use,"  she  said,  and  laid  her  hand  on  his.  He 
turned  and  met  her  eyes.  No  veil  of  indifference  was  be 
tween  them  now,  no  coquetry ;  all  pretense  was  swept  aside 
and  the  look  they  exchanged  was  as  a  kiss. 

"You  love  me — now?"  he  demanded,  half  fiercely. 

"Now,  and  always,  from  the  first  hour  you  looked  at  me !" 
she  said,  with  her  hand  on  his  wrist.  His  grip  tightened  on 
the  lines,  and  the  blood  leaped  into  his  face. 

"My  love,  my  love !"  he  whispered ;  and  she  slipped  on 
her  knees  beside  him  that  she  might  not  see  the  danger  to 
be  faced. 

"It  is  no  use,  Kenneth,  Kenneth !  There  is  the  bank  ahead 
— they  cannot  stop — it  will  kill  us  !  It  is  just  ahead !" 

She  was  muttering  disjointed  sentences,  her  face  averted, 
her  arms  clasping  him. 

"Kill  us?  Don't  you  believe  it!"  And  he  laughed  a 
trifle  nervously.  "Look  up,  sweetheart;  the  danger  is 
over.  I  knew  it  when  you  first  spoke.  See!  They  are 
going  steady  now." 

They  were.  He  had  gained  control  of  them  in  time  to 
make  the  dangerous  curve  in  safety.  They  were  a  quarter 
of  the  way  along  the  embankment.  Workmen  there  stared 
at  the  lady  and  gentleman  on  the  coachman's  seat,  and  at 
the  rather  rapid  gait ;  but  the  real  danger  was  over. 

They  halted  at  a  little  cafe,  which  was  thrown  into  con 
sternation  at  sight  of  a  lady  insensible  in  the  bottom  of  the 
carriage;  but  a  little  wine  and  the  administrations  of  the 
Marquise  aided  her  recovery,  and  in  a  short  time  enabled 
her  to  hear  the  account  of  the  wild  race. 

The  driver  had  a  broken  arm,  and  one  of  the  horses  was 
slightly  injured.  Lieutenant  McVeigh  had  sent  back  about 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  97 

/ 

the  man,  and  secured  another  team  for  the  drive  home.  He 
was  now  walking  up  and  down  the  pavement  in  front  of  the 
cafe,  in  very  good  spirits,  and  awaiting  the  pleasure  of  the 
Countess. 

They  drove  home  at  once ;  the  Countess  voluably  grateful 
to  Kenneth,  and  apparently  elated  over  such  a  tremendous 
adventure.  The  young  officer  shared  her  high  spirits,  and 
the  Marquise  was  the  only  silent  member  of  the  party. 
After  the  danger  was  passed  she  scarcely  spoke.  When  he 
helped  her  into  the  carriage  the  pressure  of  his  hand  and  one 
whispered  word  sent  the  color  sweeping  over  her  face,  leav 
ing  it  paler  than  before.  She  scarcely  lifted  her  eyes  for  the 
rest  of  the  drive,  and  after  retiring  for  a  few  moments'  rest, 
apparently,  broke  down  entirely;  the  nervous  strain  had 
proven  rather  trying,  and  she  was  utterly  unable — to  her 
own  regret — to  join  them  at  lunch. 

Lieutenant  McVeigh  begged  to  withdraw,  but  the  Coun 
tess  Biron,  who  declared  she  had  never  been  the  heroine  of 
a  thrilling  adventure,  before,  insisted  that  she  at  least  was 
quite  herself  again,  and  would  feel  cheated  if  their  heroic  de 
liverer  did  not  remain  for  a  lunch,  even  though  it  be  a  tete- 
a-tete  affair;  and  she,  of  course,  wanted  to  hear  all  the 
details  of  the  horror ;  that  child,  Judithe,  had  not  seemed  to 
remember  much ;  she  supposed  she  must  have  been  terribly 
frightened.  "Yet,  one  never  knew  how  the  Marquise  would 
be  effected  by  any  thing!  She  was  always  surprising  peo 
ple  ;  usually  in  delightful  ways,  of  course." 

"Of  course,"  assented  her  guest,  with  a  reminiscent  gleam 
and  a  wealth  of  absolute  happiness  in  the  blue  eyes.  "Yes, 
she  is  rather  surprising  at  times ;  she  surprised  me !" 

"Judithe,  my  child,  it  was  an  ideal  adventure,"  insisted 
the  Countess,  an  hour  after  the  Lieutenant  had  left  her,  and 


98  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she  had  repaired  to  the  room  where  the  Marquise  was  sup 
posed  to  be  resting.  Her  nervousness  had  evidently  not 
yet  abated,  for  she  was  walking  up  and  down  the  floor. 

"An  absolutely  ideal  adventure,  and  a  heroic  foreigner  to 
the  rescue !  What  a  god-send  that  I  invited  him !  And  I 
really  believe  he  enjoyed  it.  I  never  before  saw  him  so  gay, 
so  charming !  There  are  men,  you  know,  to  whom  danger 
is  a  tonic,  and  my  friend's  son  is  like  that,  surely.  Did  he 
not  seem  at  all  afraid?" 

"Not  that  I  observed." 

"Did  he  not  say  anything?" 

"Y — yes ;  he  swore  at  the  people  who  shouted  and  tried  to 
stop  the  horses." 

"You  should  not  have  let  yourself  hear  that,"  said  the 
Countess,  reproachfully.  "I  thought  he  was  so  perfect,  and 
was  making  my  little  romance  about  him — or  could,  if  you 
would  only  show  a  little  more  interest.  Ah !  at  your  age  I 
should  have  been  madly  in  love  with  the  fine  fellow,  just  for 
what  he  did  today;  but  you\  Still,  it  would  be  no  use,  I 
suppose.  He  is  fiancee,  you  know.  Yes ;  the  mother  told 
me ;  a  fine  settlement ;  I  saw  her  picture — very  pretty." 

"American — I  suppose  ?" 

"Oh,  yes;  their  lands  join,  and  she  is  a  great  heiress. 
The  name — the  name  is  Loring — Genevieve?  No — Gert 
rude,  Mademoiselle  Gertrude  Loring.  Ah!  so  strong  he 
was,  so  heroic. .  If  she  loves  him  she  should  have  seen  him 
today." 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  Marquise,  with  a  curious  little  smile, 
"she  should." 

5|C  >(£*** 

Two  hours  later  she  was  on  her  knees  beside  the  dow 
ager's  couch,  her  face  hidden  and  all  her  energy  given  to 
one  plea : 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  99 

"Maman — Maman!  Do  not  question  me;  only  give  me 
your  trust — let  us  go  away !" 

"But  the  man — tab !  It  is  only  a  fancy ;  why  should  you 
leave  for  that  ?  Whoever  it  is,  the  infatuation  grew  quickly 
and  will  die  out  the  same  way — so — " 

"No !  If  I  remain  I  cannot  answer  for  myself.  I  am 
ashamed  to  confess  it,  but — listen,  Maman — but  put  your 
arms  around  me  first ;  he  is  not  worthy,  I  know  it ;  yet  I 
love  him  !  He  vows  love  to  me,  yet  he  is  betrothed ;  I  know 
that,  also ;  but  I  have  no  reason  left,  and  my  folly  will  make 
me  go  to  him  if  you  do  not  help  me.  Listen,  Maman !  I — 
I  will  do  all  you  say.  I  will  marry  in  a  year — two  years — 
when  this  is  all  over.  I  will  obey  you  in  everything,  if  you 
will  only  take  me  away.  I  cannot  leave  you;  yet  I  am 
afraid  to  stay  where  he  is." 

"Afraid!  But,  Judithe,  my  child,  no  one  shall  intrude 
upon  you.  Your  friends  will  protect  you  from  such  a  man. 
You  have  only  to  refuse  to  see  him,  and  in  a  little  while — " 

"Refuse!  Maman,  what  can  I  say  to  make  you  under 
stand  that  I  could  never  refuse  him  again?  Yet,  oh,  the 
humiliation !  Maman,  he  is  the  man  I  despised — the  man  I 
said  was  not  fit  to  be  spoken  to ;  it  was  all  true,  but  when  I 
hear  his  voice  it  makes  me  forget  his  unworthiness.  Listen, 
Maman !  I — I  confessed  to  him  today  that  I  loved  him ; 
yet  I  know  he  is  the  man  who  by  the  laws  of  America  is 
the  owner  of  Rhoda  Larue,  and  he  is  now  the  betrothed  of 
her  half-sister ;  I  heard  the  name  of  his  fiancee  today,  and  it 
told  me  the  whole  story.  He  is  the  man !  Now,  will  you 
take  me  away  ?" 

The  next  morning  the  dowager,  Marquise  de  Caron,  left 
her  Paris  home  for  the  summer  season.  Her  destination 
was  indefinitely  mentioned  as  Switzerland.  Her  daughter- 
in-law  accompanied  her. 


100  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

And  to  Kenneth  McVeigh,  waiting  impatiently  the  hour 
when  he  might  go  to  her,  a  note  was  given : 

"MONSIEUR: 

"My  words  of  yesterday  had  no  meaning.  I  was  fright 
ened  and  irresponsible.  When  you  read  this  I  will  have  left 
Paris.  By  not  meeting  again  we  will  avoid  further  mistakes 
of  the  same  nature. 

"This  is  my  last  word  to  you. 

"JUDITHE  de  CARON." 

For  two  weeks  he  tried  in  vain  to  find  her.  Then  he  was 
recalled  to  Paris  to  meet  his  mother,  who  was.  ready  for 
home.  She  was  shocked  at  his  appearance,  and  refused  to 
believe  that  he  had  not  been  ill  during  her  absence,  and  had 
some  motherly  fears  regarding  Parisian  dissipations,  from 
which  she  decided  to  remove  him,  if  possible.  He  acknowl 
edged  he  would  be  glad  to  go — he  was  sick  of  Europe  any 
way. 

The  last  day  he  took  a  train  for  Fontainbleau,  remained 
two  hours  under  the  beeches,  alone,  and  got  back  to  Paris 
in  time  to  make  the  train  for  Havre. 

After  they  had  got  comfortably  established  on  a  home 
ward-bound  vessel,  and  he  was  watching  the  land  line  grow 
fainter  over  the  waters,  Mrs.  McVeigh  came  to  him  with 
a  bit  of  news  read  from  the  last  journal  brought  aboard. 

The  dowager,  Marquise  de  Caron,  had  established  herself 
at  Geneva  for  the  season,  accompanied  by  her  daughter,  the 
present  Marquise,  whose  engagement  to  Monsieur  Loris 
Dumaresque  had  just  been  announced. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  101 


CHAPTER  X. 

Long  before  the  first  gun  had  been  fired  at  Fort  Sumpter, 
Madame  la  Marquise  was  able  to  laugh  over  that  summer 
time  madness  of  tier's,  and  ridicule  herself  for  the  wasted 
force  of  that  infatuation. 

She  was  no  longer  a  recluse  unacquainted  with  men. 
The  prophecy  of  Madame,  the  dowager,  that  if  left  alone  she 
would  return  to  the  convent,  had  not  been  verified.  The 
death  of  the  dowager  occurred  their  first  winter  in  Paris, 
after  Geneva,  and  the  Marquise  had  not  yet  shown  a  pre 
dilection  for  nunneries. 

She  had  seen  the  world,  and  it  pleased  her  well  enough ; 
indeed,  the  portion  of  the  world  she  came  in  contact  with 
did  its  best  to  please  her,  and  with  a  certain  feverish  eager 
ness  she  went  half  way  to  meet  it. 

People  called  her  a  coquette — the  most  dangerous  of  co 
quettes,  because  she  was  not  a  cold  one.  She  was  respon 
sive  and  keenly  interested  up  to  the  point  where  admirers 
declared  themselves,  and  proposals  of  marriage  followed ; 
after  that,  every  man  was  just  like  every  other  one!  Yet 
she  was  possessed  of  an  idea  that  somewhere  there  existed 
a  hitherto  undiscovered  specimen  who  could  discuss  the 
emotions  and  the  philosophies  in  delightful  sympathy,  and 
restrain  the  expression  of  his  own  personal  emotions  to 
tones  and  glances,  those  indefinite  suggestions  that  thrill  yet 
call  for  no  open  reproof — no  reversal  of  friendship. 

So,  that  was  the  man  she  was  seeking  in  the  multitudes — 


102  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  on  the  way  there  were  surely  amusements  to  be  found ! 

Dumaresque  remonstrated.  She  defended  herself  with 
the  avowal  that  she  was  only  avenging  weaker  womanhood, 
smiled  at,  won,  and  forgotten,  as  his  sex  were  fond  of  for 
getting. 

"But  we  expect  better  things  of  women,"  he  declared 
warmly;  "not  a  deliberate  intention  of  playing  with  hearts 
to  see  how  many  can  be  hurt  in  a  season.  Judithe,  you  are 
no  longer  the  same  woman.  Where  is  the  justice  you  used 
to  guage  every  one  by  ?  Where  the  mercy  to  others  weaker 
than  yourself?" 

"Gone!"  she  laughed  lightly;  "driven  away  in  self-de 
fense  !  I  have  had  to  put  mercy  aside  lest  it  prove  my  mas 
ter.  '  The  only  safeguard  against  being  too  warm  to  all  may 
be  to  be  cool  to  all.  You  perceive  that  would  never — never 
do.  So—!" 

"End  all  this  unsatisfied,  feverish  life  by  marrying  me," 
he  pleaded.  "I  will  take  you  from  Paris.  With  all  your 
social  success  you  have  never  been  happy  here ;  we  will 
travel.  You  promised,  Judithe,  and — " 

"Chut!  Loris;  you  are  growing  ungallant.  You  should 
never  remember  a  woman's  promise  after  she  has  forgotten 
it.  We  were  betrothed — yes.  But  did  I  not  assure  you  I 
might  never  marry?  Maman  was  made  happy  for  a  little 
while  by  the  fancy ;  but  now  ? — well,  matrimony  is  no  more 
appealing  to  me  than  it  ever  was,  and  you  would  not  want 
an  indifferent  wife.  I  like  you,  you  best  of  all  those  men 
you  champion,  but  I  love  none  of  you !  Not  that  I  am 
lacking  in  affection,  but  rather,  incapable  of  concentrating 
it  on  one  object." 

"Once,  it  was  not  so ;  I  have  not  forgotten  the  episode  of 
Fontainbleu." 

"That?     Pouf !     I  have  learned  things  since  then,  Loris. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  103 

I  have  learned  that  once,  at  least,  in  every  life  love  seems 
to  have  been  born  on  earth  for  the  first  time ;  happy  those 
whom  it  does  not  visit  too  late !  Well !  I,  also,  had  to 
have  my  little  experience ;  it  had  to  be  some  one ;  so  it  was 
that  stranger.  But  I  have  outgrown  all  that ;  we  always 
ougrow  those  things,  do  we  not  ?  I  compare  him  now  with 
the  men  I  have  known  since,  and  he  shrinks,  he  dwindles ! 
I  care  only  for  intellectual  men,  and  the  artistic  tempera 
ment.  He  had  neither.  Yes,  it  is  true ;  the  girlish  fancies 
appear  ridiculous  in  so  short  a  time." 

Dumaresque  agreed  that  it  was  true  of  any  fancy,  to  one 
of  fickle  nature. 

"No,  it  is  not  fickleness,"  she  insisted.  "Have  you  no 
boyish  loves  of  the  past  hidden  away,  each  in  their  separate 
nook  of  memory?  Confess!  Are  you  and  the  world  any 
the  worse  for  them?  Certainly  not.  They  each  con 
tributed  a  certain  amount  towards  the  education  of  the  emo 
tions.  Well ;  is  my  education  to  be  neglected  because  you 
fear  I  shall  injure  the  daintly-bound  books  in  the  human 
library?  I  shall  not,  Loris.  I  only  flutter  the  leaves  a  lit 
tle  and  glance  at  the  pictures  they  offer,  but  I  never  covet 
one  of  them  for  my  own,  and  never  read  one  to  the  finale, 
hence — " 

Dumaresque  left  soon  after  for  an  extended  artistic  pil 
grimage  into  northern  Africa,  and  people  began  to  under 
stand  that  there  would  be  no  wedding.  The  engagement 
had  only  been  made  to  comfort  the  dowager. 

Judithe  de  Caron  regretted  his  departure  more  than  she 
had  regretted  anything  since  the  death  of  the  woman  who 
had  been  a  mother  to  her.  There  was  no  one  else  with 
whom  she  could  be  so  candid — no  man  who  inspired  her 
with  the  same  confidence.  She  compared  him  with  the 


104  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

American,  and  told  herself  how  vastly  her  friend  was  the 
superior. 

Had  McVeigh  been  one  of  the  scholarly  soldiers  of 
Europe,  such  as  she  had  since  known — men  of  breadth  and 
learning,  she  could  have  understood  her  own  infatuation. 
But  he  was  certainly  provincial,  and  not  at  all  learned.  She 
had  met  many  cadets  since,  and  had  studied  them.  They 
knew  their  military  tactics — the  lessons  of  their  schools. 
They  flirted  with  the  grissettes,  and  took  on  airs  ;  they  drank 
and  had  pride  in  emptying  more  glasses  and  walking 
straighter  afterwards  than  their  comrades.  They  were  very 
good  fellows,  but  heavens !  how  shallow  they  were !  So  he 
must  have  been.  She  tried  to  remember  a  single  sentence 
uttered  by  him  containing  wisdom  of  any  sort  whatever — 
there  had  not  been  one.  His  silences  had  been  links  to  bind 
her  to  him.  His  glances  had  been  revelations,  and  his 
words  had  been  only :  "I  adore  you." 

So  many  men  had  said  the  same  thing  since.  It  seemed 
always  the  sort  of  thing  men  said  when  conversation 
flagged.  But  in  those  earlier  days  she  had  not  known  that, 
hence  the  fact  that  she — well,  she  knew  now ! 

Twice  she  had  met  that  one-time  bondwoman,  Kora,  and 
the  meeting  left  her  thoughtful,  and  not  entirely  satisfied 
with  herself. 

How  wise  she  could  be  in  advice  to  that  pretty  butterfly ! 
How  plainly  she  could  work  out  a  useful  life  to  be  followed 
by — some  one  else ! 

Her  more  thoughtful  moods  demanded:  Why  not  her 
self?  Her  charities  of  the  street,  her  subscriptions  to 
worthy  funds,  her  patronage  of  admirable  institutions,  all 
these  -meant  nothing.  Dozens  of  fashionables  and  would- 
be  fashionables  did  the  same.  It  was  expected  of  them. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  105 

Those  charities  opened  a  door  through  which  many  entered 
the  inner  circles. 

She  had  fitful  desires  to  do  the  things  people  did  not 
expect.  She  detested  the  shams  of  life  around  her  in  that 
inner  circle.  She  felt  at  times  she  would  like  to  get  them 
all  under  her  feet — trample  them  down  and  make  room  for 
something  better ;  but  for  what  ?  She  did  not  know.  She 
was  twenty-one,  wealthy,  her  own  mistress,  and  was  tired 
of  it  all.  When  she  drove  past  laughing  Kora  on  the  ave 
nue  she  was  more  tired  of  it  than  ever. 

"How  am  I  better  than  she  but  by  accident?"  she  asked 
herself.  "She  amuses  herself — poor  little  bondslave,  who 
has  only  changed  masters !  I  amuse  myself  (without  a  mas 
ter,  it  is  true,  and  more  elegantly,  perhaps),  but  with  as  lit 
tle  usefulness  to  the  world." 

She  felt  ashamed  when  she  thought  of  Alain  and  his 
mother,  who  seemed  to  have  lived  only  to  help  others. 
They  had  given  over  the  power  to  her,  and  how  poorly  she 
had  acquitted  herself ! 

Once — when  she  first  came  with  the  dowager  to  Paris — 
the  days  had  been  all  too  short  for  her  plans  and  dreams  of 
usefulness  ;  how  long  ago  that  seemed. 

Now,  she  knew  that  the  owner  of  wealth  is  the  victim  of 
multitudinous  schemes  of  the  mendicant,  whether  of  the 
street  corner  or  the  fashionable  missions.  She  had  lost 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  alms.  No  cause  came  to  her  with 
force  enough  to  re-awaken  her  enthusiasms.  Everything 
was  so  tame — so  old ! 

One  day  she  read  in  a  journal  that  the  usefulness  of  Kora 
as  a  dancer  was  over.  There  had  been  an  accident  at  the 
theatre,  her  foot  was  smashed ;  not  badly  enough  to  call 
for  amputation,  but  too  much  for  her  ever  to  dance  again. 

The  Marquise  wondered  if  the  fair-weather  friends  would 


105  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

desert  her  now.  She  had  heard  of  Trouvelot,  an  exquisite 
who  followed  the  fashions  in  everything-,  and  Kora  had 
succeeded  in  being  the  fashion  for  two  seasons.  She  was 
just  as  pretty,  no  doubt — just  as  adorable,  but — 

As  the  weeks  of  that  winter  went  by,  rumors  from  the 
Western  world  were  thick  with  threats  of  strife.  State  after 
State  had  seceded.  The  South  was  marshalling  her  forces, 
training  her  men,  urging  the  necessity  of  defending  State 
rights  and  maintaining  their  power  to  govern  a  portion  as 
ably  as  they  had  the  whole  of  the  United  States  during  the 
eighty  years  of  its  governmental  life.  The  North,  with  its 
factories,  its  foreign  commerce,  and  its  manifold  require 
ments,  had  bred  the  politicians  of  the  country.  But  the 
South,  with  its  vast  agricultural  States,  its  wealth,  and  its 
traditions  of  landed  ancestry,  had  produced  the  orators — 
the  statesman — the  men  who  had  shone  most  brilliantly  in 
the  pages  of  their  national  history. 

From  the  shores  of  France  one  could  watch  some  pretty 
moves  in  the  games  evolving  about  that  promise  of  civil 
war;  the  creeping  forward  of  England  to  help  widen  the 
breach  between  the  divided  sections,  and  the  swift  swinging 
of  Russian  war  vessels  into  the  harbors  of  the  Atlantic — 
the  silent  bear  of  the  Russias  facing  her  hereditary  English 
foe  and  forbidding  interference,  until  the  lion  gave  way  with 
low  growlings,  not  daring  to  even  roar  his  chagrin,  but  con 
tenting  himself  Math  night-prowlings  during  the  four  years 
that  followed. 

All  those  wheels  within  wheels  were  discussed  around  the 
Marquise  de  Caron  in  those  days.  Her  acquaintance  with 
the  representatives  of  different  nations  and  the  diplomats 
of  her  own,  made  her  aware  of  many  unpublished  moves 
for  advantage  in  the  game  they  surveyed.  The  discussion 
of  them,  and  guesses  as  to  the  finale,  helped  to  awake  her 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  107 

from  the  lethargy  she  had  deplored.  Remembering  that 
the  McVeighs  belonged  to  a  seceding  state,  she  asked  many 
questions  and  forgot  none  of  the  replies. 

"Madame  La  Marquise,  I  was  right,"  said  a  white  mous- 
tached  general  one  night  at  a  great  bail,  where  she  appeared. 
"Was  it  not  a  rose  you  wagered  me?  I  have  won.  War 
is  declared  in  America.  In  South  Carolina,  today,  the  Con 
federates  won  the  first  point,  and  secured  a  Federal  fort." 

"General !  they  have  not  dared !" 

"Madame,  those  Southerons  are  daring  above  everything. 
I  have  met  them.  Their  men  are  fighters,  and  they  will  be 
well  officered." 

Well  officered !  She  thought  of  Kenneth  McVeigh,  he 
would  be  one  of  them ;  yes,  she  supposed  that  was  one  thing 
he  could  do — fight ;  a  thing  requiring  brute  strength,  brute 
courage ! 

"So !"  said  the  Countess  Biron,  who  seldom  was  ac 
quainted  with  the  causes  of  any  wars  outside  those  of  court 
circles,  "this  means  that  if  the  Northern  States  should  re 
taliate  and  conquer,  all  the  slaves  would  be  free?" 

"Not  at  all,  Countess.  The  North  does  not  interfere  with 
slavery  where  it  exists, 'only  protests  against  its  extension 
to  greater  territory." 

"Oh!  Well;  I  understood  it  had  something  to  do  with 
the  Africans.  That  clever  young  Delaven  devoted  an  en 
tire  hour  to  my  enlightment  yesterday.  And  my  poor 
friend,  Madame  McVeigh,  you  remember  her,  Judithe? 
She  is  in  the  Carolinas.  I  tremble  to  think  of  her  position 
now;  an  army  of  slaves  surrounding  them,  and,  of  course, 
only  awaiting  the  opportunity  for  insurrection." 

"And  Louisiana  seceded  two  months  ago,"  said  the  Mar 
quise,  and  then  smiled.  "You  will  think  me  a  mercenary 
creature,"  she  declared, "but  I  have  property  in  New  Orleans 


108  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

which  I  have  never  seen,  and  I  am  wondering  whether  its 
value  will  rise  or  fall  because  of  the  proposed  change  of 
government." 

"You  have  never  seen  it?" 

"No ;  it  was  a  purchase  made  by  my  husband  from  some 
home-sick  relative,  who  had  thought  to  remain  there,  but 
could  not  live  away  from  France.  I  have  promised  myself 
to  visit  it  some  day.  It  would  be  exceedingly  difficult  to  do 
so  now,  I  suppose,  but  how  much  more  spirited  a  journey  it 
would  be ;  for  each  side  will  have  vessels  on  guard  all  along 
the  coast,  will  they  not  ?" 

"There  will  at  least  be  enough  to  deter  most  ladies  from 
taking  adventurous  pilgrimages  in  that  direction.  I  shall 
not  advise  you  to  go  unless  under  military  escort,  Mar 
quise." 

"I  shall  notify  you,  General,  when  my  preparations  are 
made ;  in  the  meantime  here  is  your  rose ;  and  would  not  my 
new  yacht  do  for  the  journey?" 

So,  jesting  and  questioning,  she  accepted  his  arm  and 
made  the  circle  of  the  rooms.  Everywhere  they  heard  frag 
ments  of  the  same  topic.  Americans  were  there  from  both 
sections.  She  saw  a  pretty  woman'  from  Alabama  nod  and 
smile,  but  put  her  hands  behind  her  when  a  hitherto  friendly 
New  Yorker  gave  her  greeting. 

"We  women  can't  do  much  to  help,"  she  declared,  in 
those  soft  tones  of  the  South,  "but  we  can  encourage  our 
boys  by  being  pronounced  in  our  sympathies.  I  certainly 
shall  not  shake  hands  with  a  Northerner  who  may  march 
with  the  enemy  against  our  men;  how  can  I?" 

"Suppose  we  talk  it  over  and  try  to  find  a  way,"  he  sug 
gested.  Then  they  both  smiled  and  passed  on  together. 
Judithe  de  Caron  found  herself  watching  them  with  a  little 
ache  in  her  heart.  She  could  see  they  were  almost,  if  not 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  109 

quite,  lovers ;  yet  all  their  hopes  were  centered  on  opposite 
victories.     How  many — many  such  cases  there  must  be ! 
***** 

Before  spring  had  merged  into  summer,  a  lady,  veiled,  and 
giving  no  name,  was  announced  to  the  Marquise.  Rather 
surprised  at  the  mysterious  call,  she  entered  the  reception 
room,  and  was  again  surprised  when  the  lifted  veil  disclosed 
the  handsome  face  of  the  octoroon,  Kora. 

She  had  lost  some  of  her  brilliant  color,  and  her  expres 
sion  was  more  settled,  it  had  less  of  the  butterfly  brightness. 

"You  see,  Madame,  I  have  at  last  taken  you  at  your 
word." 

The  Marquise,  who  was  carefully  noting  the  alteration  in 
her,  bowed,  but  made  no  remark.  The  face  of  the  octoroon 
showed  uncertainty. 

"Perhaps — perhaps  I  have  waited  too  long,"  she  said,  and 
half  rose. 

"No,  no ;  you  did  right  to  come.  I  expected  you — yes, 
really !  Now  be  seated  and  tell  me  what  it  is." 

"First,  that  you  were  a  prophetess,  Madame,"  and  the 
full  lips  smiled  without  merriment.  "I  am  left  alone,  now 
that  I  have  neither  money  nor  the  attraction  for  the  others. 
He  only  followed  the  crowd — to  me,  and  away  from  me !" 

"Well?" 

"Well,  it  is  not  about  that  I  come !  But,  Madame,  I  am 
going  to  America ;  not  to  teach,  as  you  advised,  but  I  see 
now  a  way  in  which  I  can  really  help." 

"Help  whom?" 

Her  visitor  regarded  her  with'  astonishment ;  was  it  pos 
sible  that  she,  the  woman  whose  words  had  aroused  the 
first  pride  of  race  in  her,  the  first  thought  of  her  people  un 
linked  with  shame !  That  she  had  so  soon  forgotten  ?  Had 

8 


110  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she  remembered  the  pupil,  but  failed  to  recall  the  lesson 
taught  ? 

"You  have  probably  forgotten  the  one  brief  conversation 
with  which  you  honored  me,  Madame.  But  I  mean  the 
people  we  discussed  then — my  people." 

"You  mean  the  colored  people." 

"Certainly,  Madame." 

"But  you  are  more  white  than  colored." 

"Oh,  yes;  that  is  true,  but  the  white  blood  would  not 
count  in  America  if  it  were  known  there  was  one  drop  of 
black  blood  in  my  mother.  But  no  one  need  know  it ;  I  go 
from  France,  I  will  speak  only  French,  and  if  you  would 
only  help  me  a  little." 

She  grew  prettier  in  her  eagerness,  and  her  eyes  bright 
ened.  The  Marquise  smiled  at  the  change  enthusiasm 
made. 

"You  must  tell  me  the  object  for  which  you  go." 

"It  is  the  war,  Madame;  in  time  this  war  must  free  the 
colored  folks ;  it  is  talked  of  already ;  it  is  said  the  North 
will  put  colored  soldiers  in  the  field ;  that  will  be  the  little, 
thin  edge  of  the  wedge,  and  if  I  could  only  get  there,  if 
you  would  help  me  to  some  position,  or  a  recommenda 
tion  to  people  in  New  Orleans ;  any  way  so  that  people 
would  not  ask  questions  or  be  curious  about  me — if  you 
would  only  do  that  madame !" 

"But  what  will  you  do  when  there?" 

The  girl  glanced  about  the  room  and  spoke  more  softly. 

"I  am  trusting  you,  Madame,  without  asking  who  you 
side  with  in  our  war,  but  even  if  you  are  against  us  I — I 
trust  you !  They  tell  me  the  South  is  the  strongest.  They 
have  been  getting  ready  for  this  a  long  time.  The  North 
will  need  agents  in  the  South.  I  have  learned  some  things 
here — people  talk  so  much.  I  am  going  to  Washington. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  Ill 

From  there  I  will  go  south.  No  one  will  know  me  in  New 
Orleans.  I  will  change  my  name,  and  I  promise  not  to 
bring  discredit  on  any  recommendation  you  may  give  me." 

"It  is  a  plan  filled  with  difficulties  and  dangers.  What 
has  moved  you  to  contemplate  such  sacrifices?" 

"You,  Madame!"  The  Marquise  flushed  slightly. 
"From  the  time  you  talked  to  me  I  wanted  to  do  something, 
be  something  better.  But,  you  know,  it  seemed  no  use ; 
there  was  no  need  of  me  anywhere  but  in  Paris.  That  is  all 
over.  I  can  go  now,  and  I  have  some  information  worth 
taking  to  the  Federal  government.  The  South  has  commis 
sioners  here  now.  I  have  learned  all  they  have  accom 
plished,  and  the  people  they  have  interested,  so  if  I  had  a 
little  help—" 

"You  shall  have  it !"  declared  the  Marquise.  "I  have  been 
dying  of  ennui.  Your  plan  is  a  cure  for  me — better  than  a 
room  full  of  courtiers!  But  if  I  give  you  letters  it  must 
be  to  my  lawyers  in  New  Orleans — clever,  shrewd  men — 
and  I  should  have  to  trust  you  entirely,  remember." 

"I  shall  not  forget,  Madame." 

"Very  good  ;  come  tomorrow.  What  can  you  do  about  an 
establishment  such  as  mine?  Ladies  maid?  Housekeeper? 
Governess  ?" 

"Any  of  those;  but  only  governess  to  very  small  chil 
dren." 

"Come  tomorrow.  I  shall  have  planned  something  by 
then.  I  have  an  engagement  in  a  few  minutes,  and  have  no 
more  time  today.  .By  the  way,  have  you  ever  been  in 
Georgia  or  South  Carolina  ?" 

Kora  hesitated,  and  then  said :    "Yes,  Madame." 

"Have  you  any  objection  to  going  back  there?" 

The  octoroon  looked  at  her  in  a  startled,  suspicious  way. 

"I  hesitate  to  reply  to  that,  Madame,  for  reasons!     I 


112  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

don't  mind  telling  you,  though,  that  there  is  one  place  in 
America  where  I  might  be  claimed,  if  they  knew  me.  I 
am  not  anxious  to  visit  that  place." 

"Naturally !  Tomorrow  at  eleven  I  will  see  you,  and 
you  can  tell  me  all  about  it.  If  I  am  to  act  as  your  pro 
tectress  I  must  know  all  you  can  tell  me — all  I  It  is  the 
only  way.  I  like  the  mystery  and  intrigue  of  the  whole 
affair.  It  promises  new  sensations.  I  will  help  you  show 
that  government  that  you  are  willing  to  help  your  people. 
Come  tomorrow." 

A  few  days  later  the  Marquise  set  her  new  amusement  on 
foot  by  bidding  adieu  to  a  demure,  dark  eyed,  handsome 
girl,  who  was  garbed  most  sedately,  and  whose  letters  of 
introduction  pronounced  her — oh,  sentiment  or  irony  of 
women — Madame  Louise  Trouvelot,  an  attache  of  the 
Caron  establishment,  commissioned  by  the  Marquise  to  in 
spect  the  dwellings  on  the  Caron  estate  in  New  Orelans, 
and  report  as  to  whether  any  one  of  them  would  be  suitable 
for  a  residence  should  the  owner  desire  to  visit  the  city. 
If  none  should  prove  so,  Louise  Trouvelot,  who  compre 
hended  entirely  the  needs  of  the  Marquise,  was  further 
commissioned  to  look  up  such  a  residence  with  a  view  to 
purchase,  and  communicate  with  the  Marquise  and  with  her 
American  lawyers,  who  were  to  give  assistance  to  Louise 
Trouvelot  in  several  business  matters,  especially  relating 
to  her  quest. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  113 


CHAPTER  XL 

Scarce  a  leaf  quivered  on  the  branches  of  the  magnolias, 
or  a  tress  of  gray-green  moss  on  the  cypress  boughs.  All 
the  world  of  the  Salkahatchie  was  wrapped  in  siesta.  The 
white  clouds  drifting  on  palest  turquoise  were  the  only  mov 
ing  things  except  the  water  flowing  beneath,  and  its  soft 
swish  against  the  gunnels  of  the  floating  wharf  made  the 
only  sound. 

The  plantation  home  of  Loringwood,  facing  the  river,  and 
reached  through  the  avenue  of  enormous  live  oaks,  looked 
an  enchanted  palace  touched  with  the  wand  of  silence. 

From  the  wide  stone  steps  to  the  wide  galleries,  with 
their  fluted  pillars,  not  a  murmur  but  the  winged  insects 
droning  in  the  tangled  grasses,  for  the  wild  luxuriance  of 
rose  tree  and  japonica,  of  lawn  and  crape  myrtle,  betrayed 
a  lack  of  pruning  knives  in  the  immediate  season  past ;  and 
to  the  south,  where  the  rice  fields  had  reached  acre  beyond 
acre  towards  the  swamps,  there  were  now  scattered  patches 
of  feathering  young  pine,  creeping  everywhere  not  forbid 
den  to  it  by  the  hand  of  man. 

Spring  time  and  summer  time,  for  almost  a  century,  had 
been  lived  through  under  its  sloping,  square,  dormer-win 
dowed  roof.  But  all  the  blue  sky  and  brilliant  sunshine 
above  could  not  save  it  from  a  suggestion  of  autumn,  and 
the  shadows  lengthening  along  the  river  were  in  perfect 
keeping  with  the  entire  picture — a  picture  of  perpetual  af 
ternoon. 


114  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Row-lock,"  "Row-lock,"  sounded  the  dip  and  click  of 
paddles,  as  a  boat  swept  close  to  the  western  bank,  where 
the  shadows  fell.  Two  Afro-Americans  bent  in  rythmic 
motion — bronze  human  machines,  whose  bared  arms  showed 
nothing  of  effort  as  they  sent  the  boat  cutting  through  the 
still  water. 

A  middle  aged  woman  in  a  voluminous  lavender  lawn 
and  carrying  a  parasol  of  plaid  silk — green,  with  faded  pink 
bars,  sat  in  the  after  part  of  the  boat,  while  a  slight  brown- 
haired  girl  just  in  front  amused  herself  by  catching  at 
branches  of  willows  as  they  passed. 

"Evilena,  honey,  you  certainly  are  like  to  do  yourself  a 
hurt  reaching  out  like  that,  and  if  you  should  go  over !" 

"But  I  shan't,  Aunt  Sajane.  Do  you  reckon  I'd  risk  ap 
pearing  before  Gertrude  Loring  in  a  draggled  gown  just 
when  she  has  returned  from  the  very  heart  of  the  civilized 
world?  Goodness  knows,  we'll  all  look  dowdy  enough 
to  her." 

Aunt  Sajane  (Mistress  Sarah  Jane  Nesbitt)  glanced  down 
at  her  own  immaculate  lawn,  a  little  faded  but  daintily  laun 
dered,  and  at  her  own  trim  congress-gaitered  feet. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  you,"  added  the  girl,  laughing  softly. 
"Aunt  Sajane,  I  truly  do  believe  that  if  you  had  nothing 
but  gunny  sacks  for  dresses  you'd  contrive  to  look  as  if 
you'd  just  come  out  of  a  bandbox." 

"I'd  wear  gunny  sacks  fast  enough  if  it  was  to  help  the 
cause,"  agreed  Aunt  Sajane,  with  a  kindly  smile.  "So  would 
you,  honey." 

"Honey"  trailed  her  fingers  in  the  waters,  amber  tinted 
from  the  roots  of  the  cypress  trees. 

"If  a  letter  from  mama  comes  today  we  will  just  miss  it.n 

"Only  by  a  day.    Brother  Gideon  will  send  it." 

"But  suppose  he's  away  somewhere  on  business,  or  up 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  115 

there  at  Columbia  on  state  councils  or  conventions,  or 
whatever  they  are,  as  he  is  just  now  ?" 

"Then  Pluto  will  fetch  it  right  over,"  and  she  glanced  at 
one  of  the  black  men,  who  showed  his  teeth  for  an  instant 
and  bent  his  head  in  assent. 

"Don't  see  why  Judge  Clarkson  was  ever  named  Gideon," 
protested  the  girl.  "It's  a  hard,  harsh  sort  of  name,  and 
he's  as — as — " 

"Soft?"  queried  the  judge's  sister,  with  an  accompani 
ment  of  easy  laughter.  The  youngest  of  the  two  oarsmen 
grinned.  Pluto  maintained  a  well-bred  indifference. 

"No !"  and  the  girl  flung  a  handful  of  willow  leaves  over 
the  lavender  lawn.  "He  is — well — just  about  right,  the 
judge  is ;  so  gentle,  so  considerate,  so  altogether  magnifi 
cent  in  his  language.  I've  adored  him  as  far  back  as  when 
he  fought  the  duel  with  the  Northern  man  who  reflected 
some  way  on  our  customs ;  that  was  starting  a  war  for  his 
state  all  alone,  before  anyone  else  thought  of  it,  I  reckon. 
I  must  have  been  very  little  then,  for  I  just  recollect  how 
he  used  to  let  me  look  in  his  pockets  for  candy,  and  I  was 
awfully  afraid  of  the  pistols  I  thought  he  must  carry  there 
to  shoot  people  with,"  and  she  smiled  at  the  childish  fancy. 
"I  tell  you,  Aunt  Sajane,  if  my  papa  had  lived  there's  just 
one  man  I'd  like  him  to  favor,  and  that's  our  judge.  But 
he  didn't,  did  he?" 

"No,  he  didn't,"  said  Aunt  Sajane.  "The  McVeigh  men 
were  all  dark,  down  to  Kenneth,  and  he  gets  his  fairness 
from  your  ma."  Then  she  added,  kindly,  "the  judge  will 
be  very  proud  of  your  admiration." 

"Hope  he'll  care  enough  about  it  to  hurry  right  along 
after  us.  He  does  put  in  a  powerful  lot  of  his  time  in 
Charleston  and  Columbia  lately,"  and  the  tone  was  one  of 
childish  complaint. 


116  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Why,  honey,  how  you  suppose  our  soldier  boys  would 
be  provided  for  unless  some  of  the  representative  men  de 
vote  their  time  to  the  work?  It's  a  consolation  to  me  that 
Gideon  is  needed  for  civil  service  just  now,  for  if  he  wasn't 
he  wouldn't  be  so  near  home  as  he  is ;  he'd  be  somewhere 
North  with  a  regiment,  and  I  reckon  that  wouldn't  suit 
you  any  better." 

"No,  it  wouldn't,"  agreed  the  girl,  "though  I  do  like  a 
man  who  will  fight,  of  course.  Any  girl  does." 

"Oh,  Honey !" 

"Yes  they  do,  too.  But  just  now  I  don't  want  him 
either  fighting  or  in  legislature.  I  want  him  right  along 
with  us  at  Loringwood.  If  he  isn't  there  to  talk  to  Mr. 
Loring  it  won't  be  possible  to  have  a  word  alone  with  Ger 
trude  all  the  time  we  stay.  How  he  does  depend  on  her, 
and  what  an  awful  time  she  must  have  had  all  alone  with 
him  in  Paris  while  he  was  at  that  hospital,  or  whatever  it 
was." 

"Not  many  girls  so  faithful  as  Gertrude  Loring,"  agreed 
Aunt  Sajane.  "Not  that  he  has  ever  shown  much  affection 
for  her,  either,  considering  she  is  his  own  brother's  child. 
But  she  certainly  has  shown  a  Christian  sense  of  duty  to 
wards  him.  Well,  you  see,  they  are  the  only  ones  left  of 
the  family.  It's  natural,  I  suppose." 

"/  would  think  it  natural  to  run  away  and  leave  him,  like 
Aleck  and  Scip  did. 

Aunt  Sajane  cast  a  warning  glance  towards  the  two  oars 
men. 

"Well,  I  would,"  insisted  the  girl.  "I  wonder  no  more 
of  them  ran  away  when  they  thought  he  was  coming  home. 
How  he  must  have  raved!  /  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  pros 
trated  him  again.  You  know  old  -Doctor  Allison  said  it 
was  just  a  fit  of  temper  caused — " 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  117 

"Yes,  yes,  honey;  but  you  know  we  are  to  sleep  under 
his  roof  tonight." 

"I'll  sleep  under  Gertrude's  half  of  it,"  laughed  the  girl. 
"It's  no  use  reminding  me  of  my  bad  manners,  Aunt  Sajane. 
But  as  long  as  I  can  remember  anyone,  I've  had  two  men 
in  my  mind.  One  always  grunted  at  me  and  told  me  to 
take  my  doll  somewhere  else  or  be  quiet.  That  was  Ken 
neth's  guardian,  Matthew  Loring.  The  other  man  always 
had  sugar  kisses  in  his  pocket  for  me  and  gave  me  my  first 
dog  and  my  only  pony.  That  was  Judge  Clarkson.  You 
see  if  my  judge  had  not  been  so  lovely  the  other  would  not 
have  seemed  so  forbidding.  It  was  the  contrast  did  it.  I 
wonder — I  wonder  if  he  ever  had  a  sweetheart?" 

"Gideon  Clarkson?  Lots  of  them,"  said  his  sister, 
promptly. 

"I  meant  Mr.  Loring." 

"Nonsense,  honey,  nonsense." 

"And  nonsense  means  no,"  decided  the  girl.  "I  thought 
it  would  be  curious  if  he  had,"  then  an  interval  of  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  dip  of  the  oars.  "Gertrude's  note  said 
a  Paris  doctor  is  with  them,  a  friend  of  Kenneth  and  mamma. 
Well,  I  only  hope  he  isn't  a  crusty  old  sweetheartless  man. 
But  of  course  he  is  if  Mr.  Loring  chose  him.  I'm  wild  to 
know  how  they  got  through  the  blockade.  Oh,  dear,  how 
I  wish  it  was  Ken !" 

"I  don't  suppose  you  wish  it  any  more  than  the  boy  him 
self,"  said  Aunt  Sajane,  with  a  sigh.  "There's  a  good  many 
boys  scattered  from  home,  these  days,  who  would  be  glad  to 
be  home  again." 

"But  not  unless  they  gain  what  they  went  for,"  declared 
the  girl  in  patriotic  protest. 

The  older  woman  sighed,  and  said  nothing.  Her  en 
thusiasms  of  a  year  ago  had  been  shrouded  by  the  crape  of 


118  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

a  mourning  land ;  the  glory  of  conquest  would  be  compen 
sation,  perhaps,  and  would  be  gained,  no  doubt.  But  the 
price  to  be  paid  chilled  her  and  left  her  without  words  when 
Evilena  revelled  in  the  glories  of  the  future. 

"Loringwood  line,"  said  Pluto,  motioning  towards  a  great 
ditch  leading  straight  back  from  the  river. 

Evilena  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a  little  pretense  of 
chill,  and  laughed. 

"That  is  only  a  reminder  of  what  I  used  to  feel  when  Ger 
trude's  uncle  came  to  our  house.  I  wonder  if  this  long 
dress  will  prevent  him  from  grunting  at  me  or  ordering  me 
out  of  the  room  if  I  talk  too  much." 

"Remember,  Evilena,  he  has  been  an  invalid  for  four 
years,  and  is  excusable  for  almost  any  eccentricity." 

"How  did  you  all  excuse  his  eccentricities  before  he  got 
sick,  Aunt  Sajane  ?" 

Receiving  no  reply,  the  girl  comforted  herself  with  the 
appreciative  smile  of  the  oarsmen,  who  were  evidently  of 
her  mind  as  to  the  planter  under  discussion,  and  a  mile 
'further  they  ran  the  boat  through  the  reeds  and  lily  pads  to 
the  little  dock  at  Loringwood. 

Mrs.  Nesbitt  shook  out  the  folds  of  her  crisp  lawn,  ad 
justed  her  bonnet  and  puffs  and  sighed,  as  they  walked  up 
the  long  avenue. 

"I  can  remember  when  the  lily  pads  never  could  get  a 
chance  to  grow  there  on  account  of  the  lot  of  company  al 
ways  coming  in  boats,"  she  said,  regretfully,  "and  I've  heard 
that  the  old  Lorings  lived  like  kings  here  long  ago;  wild, 
reckless,  magnificent  men ;  not  at  all  like  the  Lorings  now ; 
and  oh,  my,  how  the  place  has  been  neglected  of  late.  Not 
a  sign  of  life  about  the  house.  Now,  in  Tom  Loring's 
time—" 

They  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  steps  when  the  great 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  119 

double  doors  swung  back  and  a  woman  appeared  on  the 
threshold  and  inclined  her  head  in  greeting. 

"Well,  Margeret,  I  am  glad  to  see  some  one  alive,"  de 
clared  Mrs.  Nesbitt ;  "the  place  is  so  still." 

"Yes ;  just  look  at  Pluto  and  Bob,"  said  Evilena,  motion 
ing  towards  the  boatmen.  "One  would  think  a  ghost  had 
met  them  at  the  landing,  they  are  so  subdued." 

The  brown  eyed,  grey  haired  woman  in  the  door  glanced 
at  the  two  colored  men  who  were  following  slowly  along 
a  path  towards  the  back  of  the  house. 

"Yes,  Miss  Lena,  it  is  quiet,"  she  agreed.  "Please  step 
in  Mistress  Nesbitt.  I'll  have  Raquel  show  you  right  up  to 
your  rooms,  for  Miss  Loring  didn't  think  you  could  get 
here  for  an  hour  yet,  and  she  felt  obliged  to  ride  over  to 
the  north  corner,  but  won't  be  gone  long." 

"And  Mr.  Loring — how  is  he  ?" 

"Mr.  Loring  is  very  much  worn  out.  He's  gone  asleep 
now.  Doctor  says  he's  not  to  be  seen  just  yet." 

"Oh,  yes ;  the  doctor.  I'll  see  him  directly  after  I've 
rested  a  little.  He  speaks  English,  I  hope.  Are  you  com 
ing  up,  honey?" 

"Not  yet.    I'll  keep  a  lookout  for  Gertrude." 

Margeret  had  touched  a  bell  and  in  response  a  little  black 
girl  had  appeared,  who  smiled  and  ducked  her  head  re 
spectfully. 

"Howdy,  Miss  Sajane?  Howdy,  Miss  Lena?"  she  ex 
claimed,  her  black  eyes  dancing.  "I  dunno  how  come  it 
come,  I  nevah  heerd  you  all,  for  I  done  got — " 

"Raquel,  you  show  Mistress  Nesbitt  to  the  west  room," 
said  the  quiet  tones  of  Margeret,  and  Raquel's  animation 
subsided  into  wordless  grins  as  she  gathered  up  the  sun 
shade,  reticule  and  other  belongings,  and  preceded  Mistress 
Nesbitt  up  the  stairs. 


120  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"If  there's  anything  I  can  do  for  you  just  send  Raquel 
for  me." 

"Thank  you,  Margeret.     I'll  remember." 

Margeret  crossed  the  hall  to  the  parlor  door  and  opened 
it. 

"If  you'd  rather  rest  in  here,  Miss  Lena — " 

"No,  no;  I'll  go  look  for  Gertrude.  Don't  mind  me.  I 
remember  all  the  rooms  well  enough  to  make  myself  at 
home  till  she  comes." 

Margeret  inclined  her  head  slightly  and  moved  along  the 
hall  to  the  door  of  the  dining  room,  which  she  entered. 

Evilena  looked  after  her  with  a  dubious  smile  in  the  blue- 
gray  eyes. 

"I  wonder  if  I  could  move  as  quietly  as  that  even  with 
my  feet  bare"  and  she  tried  walking  softly  on  the  polished 
oak  floor,  but  the  heels  of  her  shoes  would  persist  in  giving 
out  little  clicking  sounds  as  Margeret's  had  not. 

"It's  no  use.  No  living  person  with  shoes  on  could  walk 
silently  as  that  woman.  She's  just  a  ghost  who — a-gh-gh  I" 

Her  attempt  at  silent  locomotion  had  brought  her  to  the 
door  of  the  library,  directly  opposite  the  dining  room.  As 
she  turned  to  retrace  her  steps  that  door  suddenly  opened 
and  a  hand  grasped  her  shoulder. 

"Oh,  ho !  This  time  I've  caught  you,  have  I  ?  you— oh, 
murder!" 

Her  half  uttered  scream  had  been  checked  by  the  sound 
of  a  voice  which  memory  told  her  was  not  that  of  her  bug 
bear,  the  invalid  master  of  the  house.  It  was,  instead,  a 
strange  gentleman,  who  was  young,  and  even  attractive; 
whose  head  was  a  mass  of  reddish  curls,  and  whose  austere 
gaze  changed  quickly  to  an  embarrassed  stare  as  her  hat 
slipped  back  and  he  saw  her  face.  The  girl  was  the  first 
to  recover  herself. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  121 

"Yes,  you  certainly  did  catch  me  this  time,"  she  gasped. 

"My  dear  young  lady,  I'm  a  blundering  idiot.  I  beg  your 
pardon  most  humbly.  I  thought  it  was  that  Raquel,  and 
I—" 

"Oh,  Raquel?"  and  she  backed  to  the  opposite  wall,  re 
garding  him  with  doubt  and  question  in  her  eyes. 

"Exactly.  Allow  me  to  explain.  Raquel,  in  company 
with  some  other  imps  of  all  shades,  have  developed  an  ab 
normal  interest  in  the  unpacking  of  various  boxes  today, 
and  especially  a  galvanic  battery  in  here,  which — " 

"Battery?  In  there?"  and  Evilena  raised  on  her  tip-toes 
to  survey  the  room  over  his  shoulder.  "I  know  some  boys 
of  Battery  B,  but  I  never  saw  them  without  uniforms." 

"Uniform,  is  it?  Well,  now,  you  see,  I've  only  been  a 
matter  of  hours  in  the  country,  and  small  chance  to  look 
up  a  tailor.  Are — are  they  a  necessity  to  the  preservation 
of  life  here  ?" 

He  spoke  with  a  doubtful  pretense  of  timidity,  and  looked 
at  her  quizzically.  She  smiled,  but  made  a  little  grimace, 
a  curve  of  the  lips  and  nod  of  the  head  conveying  decision. 

"You  will  learn  it  is  the  only  dress  for  a  man  that  makes 
life  worth  living,  for  him,  around  here,"  she  replied.  "Every 
man  who  is  not  superannuated  or  attached  to  the  state  gov 
ernment  in  some  way  has  to  wear  a  uniform  unless  he  wants 
his  loyalty  questioned." 

The  un-uniformed  man  smiled  at  her  delightful  patriotic 
frankness. 

"Faith,  now,  I've  no  objection  to  the  questions  if  you  are 
appointed  questioner.  But  let  me  get  you  a  chair.  Even 
when  on  picket  duty  and  challenging  each  new  comer,  you 
are  allowed  a  more  restful  attitude  than  your  present  one, 
I  hope.  You  startled  me  into  forgetting — " 

"/  startled  you?    Well!" 


122  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Oh,  yes.  I  was  the  one  to  do  the  bouncing  out  and 
nabbing  you,  wasn't  I  ?  Well,  now,  I  can't  believe  you 
were  the  more  frightened  of  the  two,  for  all  that.  Have  this 
chair,  please ;  it  is  the  most  comfortable.  You  see,  I  fancied 
Raquel  had  changed  under  my  touch  from  dusky  brown  to 
angelic  white.  The  hat  hid  your  face,  you  know,  until  you 
turned  around,  and  then — " 

"Well?"  At  the  first  tone  of  compliment  she  had  for 
gotten  all  the  strangeness  of  their  meeting,  and  remembered 
only  the  coquetry  so  naturally  her  own.  With  or  without 
the  uniform  of  her  country,  he  was  at  least  a  man,  and  there 
had  been  a  dearth  of  men  about  their  plantation,  "The  Ter 
race,"  of  late. 

"Well,"  he  repeated  after  her,  "when  you  tipped  the  hat 
back  I  thought  in  a  wink  of  all  the  fairy  stories  of  trans 
formation  I  used  to  hear  told  by  the  old  folks  in  Ireland." 

"Do  you  really  mean  that  you  believe  fairy  stories?" 
Her  tone  was  severe  and  her  expression  chiding. 

"On  my  faith  I  believed  them  all  that  minute." 

Her  eyes  dropped  to  the  toe  of  her  slipper.  It  was  all  very 
delightful,  this  tete-a-tete  with  the  complimentary  unknown, 
and  to  be  thought  a  fairy !  She  wished  she  had  gone  up 
with  Aunt  Sajane  and  brushed  her  hair.  Still — 

"I  was  sure  it  was  Mr.  Loring  who  had  hold  of  me  until 
I  looked  around,"  she  confessed,  "and  that  frightened  me 
just  as  much  as  the  wickedest  fairy  or  goblin  could  ever  do." 

"Indeed,  now,  would  it?" 

She  glanced  around  to  see  if  her  indiscreet  speech  had 
been  overheard  and  then  nodded  assent. 

"Oh,  you  needn't  smile,"  she  protested ;  and  his  face  at 
once  became  comically  grave.  "You  didn't  have  him  for 
a  bug-a-boo  when  you  were  little,  as  I  did.  That  doctor  of 
his  gave  orders  that  no  one  was  to  see  him  just  now,  and 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  123 

I  am  glad  Gertrude  will  be  back  before  we  are  admitted. 
With  Gertrude  to  back  me  up  I  could  be  brave  as — as — " 

"A  sheep,"  suggested  the  stranger. 

"I  was  going  to  say  a  lion,  but  lions  are  big,  and  I'm  not 
very." 

"No,  you  are  not,"  he  agreed.    "Sad,  isn't  it?" 

Then  they  both  laughed.  She  was  elated,  bubbling  over 
with  delight,  at  meeting  some  one  in  Loringvvood  who  ac 
tually  laughed. 

"Gertrude's  note  last  night  never  told  us  she  had  com 
pany,  and  I  had  gloomy  forebodings  of  Uncle  Matthew  and 
Uncle  Matthew's  doctor,  to  whom  I  would  not  dare  speak 
a  word,  and  the  relief  of  finding  real  people  here  is  a  treat, 
so  please  don't  mind  if  I'm  silly." 

"I  shan't — when  you  are,"  he  agreed,  magnanimously. 
"But  pray  enlighten  me  as  to  why  you  will  be  unable  to 
exchange  words  with  the  medical  stranger  ?  He's  no  worse 
a  fellow  than  myself." 

"Of  course  not,"  she  said,  with  so  much  fervor  that  her 
listener's  smile  was  clearly  a  compromise  with  laughter. 
"But  a  doctor  from  Paris !  Our  old  Doctor  Allison  is 
pompous  and  domineering  enough,  and  he  never  was  out 
of  the  state,  but  this  one  from  Europe,  he  is  sure  to  oppress 
me  with  his  wonderful  knowledge.  Indeed,  I  don't  know 
whom  he  will  find  to  talk  to  here,  now,  except  Judge  Clark- 
son.  The  judge  will  be  scholarly  enough  for  him." 

"And  does  he,  also,  oppress  you  with  his  professional 
knowledge  ?" 

Evilena's  laugh  rang  out  clear  as  a  bird's  note. 

"The  Judge?  Never!  Why  I  just  love  him.  He  is  the 
dearest,  best — " 

"I  see.  He's  an  angel  entirely,  and  no  mere  mortal  from 
Paris  is  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath." 


124  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

''Well,  he  is  everything  charming',"  she  insisted.  "You 
would  be  sure  to  like  him." 

"I  wish  I  could  be  as  sure  you  might  change  your  mind 
and  like  the  new-comer  from  Paris." 

"Do  you?  Oh,  well,  then,  I'll  certainly  try.  What  is  he 
like,  nice?" 

"I  really  can't  remember  ever  having  heard  any  one  say 
so,"  confessed  the  stranger,  smiling  at  her. 

"Well,"  and  Evilena  regarded  him  with  wide,  astonished 
eyes,  "no  one  else  likes  him,  yet  you  hoped  I  would.  Why, 
I  don't  see  how — " 

The  soft  quick  beat  of  horse  hoofs  on  the  white  shelled 
road  interrupted  her,  or  gave  opportunity  for  interrupting 
herself. 

"I  hope  it's  Gertrude.    Oh,  it  is !    You  dear  old  darling." 

She  flounced  down  the  steps,  followed  by  the  man,  who 
was  becoming  a  puzzle.  He  gave  his  hand  to  Miss  Loring, 
who  accepted  that  assistance  from  the  horse  block,  and  then 
he  stepped  aside  that  the  embrace  feminine  might  have  no 
obstacle  in  its  path. 

"My  dear  little  girl,"  and  the  mistress  of  Loringwood 
kissed  her  guest  with  decided  fondness.  "How  good  of 
you  to  come  at  once — and  Mrs.  Nesbitt,  too?  I'm  sorry 
you  had  to  wait  evert  a  little  while  for  a  welcome,  but  I  just 
had  to  ride  over  to  the  quarters,  and  then  to  the  far  fields. 
Thank  you,  doctor,  for  playing  host." 

"Doctor?"  gasped  Evilena,  gripping  Miss  Loring's  arm. 
There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation  on  the  part  of  all  three, 
when  she  said,  reproachfully,  looking  at  the  smiling 
stranger,  "Then  it  was  you  all  the  time  ?" 

"Was  there  no  one  here  to  introduce  you?"  asked  Miss 
Loring,  looking  from  one  to  the  other.  "This  is  Dr.  Dela- 
van,  dear,  and  this,  doctor,  is  Kenneth's  sister." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  125 

"Thanks.  I  recognized  her  at  once,  and  I  trust  you  will 
forgive  me  for  not  introducing  myself  sooner,  mademoi 
selle,  but — well,  we  had  so  many  other  more  interesting 
things  to  speak  of." 

Evilena  glanced  at  him  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye,  and 
with  her  arm  about  Gertrude  walked  in  silence  up  the  steps. 
She  wanted  time  to  think  over  what  awful  things  she  had 
said  to  him,  not  an  easy  thing  to  do,  for  Evilena  said  too 
many  things  to  remember  them  all. 

Margeret  was  in  the  hall.  Evilena  wondered  by  what 
occult  messages  she  learned  when  any  one  ascended  those 
front  steps.  She  took  Miss  Loring's  riding  hat  and  gloves. 

"Mistress  Nesbitt  is  just  resting,"  she  said,  in  those  soft 
even  tones.  "She  left  word  to  call  her  soon  as  you  got  back 
— she'd  come  down." 

"I'll  go  up  and  see  her,"  decided  Miss  Loring.  "Will  you 
excuse  us,  doctor?  And  Margaret,  have  Chloe  get  us  a  bit 
of  lunch.  We  are  all  a  little  tired,  and  it  is  a  long  time  till 
supper." 

"I  have  some  all  ready,  Miss  Gertrude.  Was  only  waiting 
till  you  got  back." 

"Oh,  very  well.    In  five  minutes  we  will  be  down." 

Then,  with  her  arm  about  Evilena,  Miss  Loring  ascended 
the  wide  stairway,  where  several  portraits  of  vanished  Lor- 
ings  hung,  none  of  them  resembling  her  own  face  partic 
ularly. 

She  was  what  the  Countess  Biron  had  likened  her  to  when 
the  photograph  was  shown— a  white  lily,  slender,  blonde, 
with  the  peculiar  and  attractive  combination  of  hazel  eyes 
and  hair  of  childish  flaxen  color.  Her  features  were  well 
formed  and  a  trifle  small  for  her  height.  She  had  the  man 
ner  of  a  woman  perfectly  sure  of  herself,  her  position  and 
her  own  importance. 


126  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Her  voice  was  very  sweet.  Sometimes  there  were  high, 
clear  tones  in  it.  Delaven  had  admired  those  bell-like  in 
tonations  until  now,  when  he  heard  her  exchange  words 
with  Margeret.  All  at  once  the  mellow,  contralto  tones 
of  the  serving  woman  made  the  voice  of  the  lovely  mistress 
sound  metallic — precious  metal,  to  be  sure,  nothing  less 
than  silver.  But  in  contrast  was  the  melody,  entirely 
human,  soft,  harmonious,  alluring  as  a  poet's  dream  of  the 
tropics. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"How  that  child  is  petted  on,  Gideon,"  and  Mrs.  Nesbitt 
looked  up  from  her  work,  the  knitting  of  socks,  to  be  worn 
by  unknown  boys  in  gray.  Even  the  material  for  them  was 
growing  scarce,  and  she  prided  herself  on  always  managing, 
someway,  to  keep  her  knitting  needles  busy.  At  present  she 
was  using  a  coarse  linen  or  tow  thread,  over  which  she 
lamented  because  of  its  harshness. 

Miss  Loring,  who  appeared  very  domestic,  with  a  stack  of 
household  linen  beside  her,  glanced  up,  with  a  smile. 

"Rather  fortunate,  isn't  it,  considering — "  an  arch  of  the 
brows  and  a  significant  expression  were  allowed  to  finish 
her  meaning.  Mrs.  Nesbitt  pursed  up  her  lips  and  shook 
her  head. 

"I  really  and  truly  wonder  sometimes,  Gertrude,  if  it's 
going  on  like  this  always.  Ten  years  if  it's  a  day  since  he 
commenced  paying  court  there,  and  what  she  allows  to  do, 
at  least  is  'more  than  I  can  guess." 

"Marry  him,  no  doubt,"  suggested  Gertrude,  inspecting  a 
sheet  carefully,  and  then  proceeding  to  tear  it  in  widths 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  127 

designated  by  Dr.  Delaven  for  hospital  bandages.  "She 
certainly  esteems  him  very  highly." 

"Oh,  esteem !"  and  Mrs.  Nesbitt's  tone  was  dubious. 

"Well,  people  don't  think  much  of  getting  married  these 
days,  where  there  is  fighting  and  mourning  everywhere." 

The  older  lady  gave  her  a  quick  glance  over  the  tow 
yarn  rack,  but  the  fair  face  was  very  serene,  and  without  a 
trace  of  personal  feeling  on  the  subject. 

"Yes,  that's  so,"  she  admitted,  "but  I  used  to  think  they 
were  only  waiting  till  Kenneth  came  of  age,  or  until  he 
graduated.  But  my !  I  didn't  see  it  make  a  spec  of  differ 
ence.  They  danced  together  at  the  party  given  for  him, 
and  smiled,  careless  as  you  please,  and  now  the  dancing  is 
ended,  they  keep  on  friendly  and  smiling,  and  I'm  down 
right  puzzled  to  know  what  they  do  mean." 

"Maybe  no  more  than  those  two,  who  are  only  amusing 
themselves,"  said  Gertrude,  with  a  glance  towards  the  lawn 
where  Evilena  and  Delaven  were  fencing  with  long  stalks 
of  a  wild  lily  they  had  brought  from  the  swamps,  and  when 
Evilena  'was  vanquished  by  the  foe  her  comforter  was  a 
white-haired  gentleman,  inclined  to  portliness,  and  with 
much  more  than  an  inclination  to  courtliness,  whom  Evilena 
called  "My  Judge." 

It  was  two  weeks  after  the  descent  of  Aunt  Sajane  and 
Evilena  upon  Loringwood.  The  former,  after  a  long  con 
sultation  with  Dr.  Delaven,  had  returned  to  her  own  home, 
near  the  McVeigh  plantation,  and  putting  her  household  in 
order  for  a  more  prolonged  visit  than  at  first  intended, 
she  had  come  back  to  be  near  Gertrude  in  case — 

None  of  them  had  put  into  words  to  each  other  their 
thought  as  to  Matthew  Loring's  condition,  but  all  under 
stood  the  seriousness  of  it,  and  Gertrude,  of  course,  must 
not  be  left  alone. 


128  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Dr.  Delaven  had  meant  only  to  accompany  the  invalid 
home,  consult  with  their  local  physician,  and  take  his  de 
parture  after  a  visit  to  Mrs.  McVeigh,  and  possibly  a  sight 
of  their  new  battlefield  beside  Kenneth,  if  his  command  was 
not  too  far  away. 

Kenneth  McVeigh  was  Col.  McVeigh  now,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  sister,  who  loved  men  who  could  fight.  On 
his  return  from  Paris  he  had,  at  his  own  request,  and  to 
the  dismay  of  his  family,  been  sent  to  the  frontier.  At  the 
secession  of  his  state  he  was  -possessed  of  a  captaincy,  which 
he  resigned,  returned  home,  and  in  six  weeks  tendered  a 
regiment,  fully  equipped  at  his  own  expense,  to  the  Con 
federate  government.  His  offer  had  been  accepted  and  him 
self  made  a  colonel.  His  regiment  had  already  seen  one 
year  of  hard  service,  were  veterans,  with  a  colonel  of  twenty- 
five — a  colonel  who  had  been  carried  home  wounded 
unto  death,  the  surgeons  said,  from  the  defeat  of  Fort  Don 
aldson.  He  had  belied  their  prophecies  of  death,  however, 
and  while  not  yet  equal  to  the  rigors  of  camp  life,  he  had  ac 
cepted  a  commission  abroad  of  decided  importance  to  his 
government,  and  became  one  of  the  committee  to  deal 
with  certain  English  sympathizers  who  were  fitting  out 
vessels  for  the  Confederate  navy. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  had  been  called  to  Mobile  by  the  serious 
illness  of  an  aged  relative  and  had  been  detained  by  some 
thing  much  less  dreary,  the  marriage  of  her  brother,  who 
had  command  of  a  garrison  at  that  point. 

Thus  barred  from  seeing  either  of  his  former  Parisian 
friends,  Delaven  would  have  gone  back  to  Charleston,  or 
else  gone  North  or  West  to  view  a  new  land  in  battle  array. 

But  Mr.  Loring's  health,  or  Miss  Loring's  entreaties  had 
interfered  with  both  those  plans.  He  could  not  desert  a 
young  lady  on  an  isolated  plantation  with  only  the  slaves 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  129 

about  her,  and  a  partial  paralytic  to  care  for,  especially  when 
all  the  most  capable  physicians  were  at  military  posts,  and 
no  one  absolutely  reliable  nearer  than  Charleston. 

So  he  had  promised  to  stay,  and  had  advised  Miss  Lor- 
ing  to  induce  Mrs.  Nesbitt  to  remain  until  a  few  weeks'  rest 
and  the  atmosphere  of  home  would,  he  hoped,  have  a  bene 
ficial  influence  on  the  invalid. 

All  his  suggestions  had  been  carriec}  out.  Aunt  Sajane 
(who  had  not  a  niece  or  nephew  in  the  world,  yet  was 
"aunt"  to  all  the  young  folks)  was  to  remain,  also  Evilena, 
until  the  return  of  Mr.  McVeigh,  after  which  they  all  hoped 
Mr.  Loring  could  be  persuaded  to  move  up  the  river  to  a 
smaller  estate  belonging  to  Gertrude,  adjoining  The  Ter 
race,  as  the  nearness  of  friends  would  be  a  great  advantage 
under  the  circumstances.  The  isolation  of  Loringwood  had 
of  late  become  oppressive  to  its  mistress,  who  strongly  ad 
vocated  its  sale.  They  had  enough  land  without,  and  she 
realized  it  was  too  large  a  tract  to  be  managed  properly 
or  to  profit  so  long  as  her  uncle  was  unable  to  see  to  affairs 
personally.  But  above  all  else,  the  loneliness  of  it  was  irk 
some  since  her  return. 

"Though  we  never  did  use  to  think  Loringwood  isolated, 
did  we,  Gideon?"  asked  Mrs.  Nesbitt,  who  remembered 
the  house  when  full  of  guests,  and  the  fiddles  and  banjos 
of  the  colored  musicians  always  ready  for  dance  music. 

"Relentless  circumstances  over  (he  called  it  ovah,  and 
Delaven  delighted  in  the  charming  dialect  of  the  South,  as 
illustrated  by  the  Judge)  which  we  have  no  control  have 
altered  conditions  through  this  entire  (entiah)  common 
wealth.  But,  no.  I  should  not  call  Loringwood  exactly 
isolated,  with  the  highway  of  the  Salkahatchie  at  its  door." 

"But  when  no  one  travels  the  highway?"  said  Delaven, 
whose  comments  had  aroused  the  discussion.  "Xo  one  but 


130  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

black  hunters  in  log  canoes  have  I  seen  come  along  it  for 
a  week,  barring  yourselves.  Faith,  I  should  think  their 
presence  alone  would  be  enough  to  give  a  young  lady 
nervous  chills,  the  daily  and  nightly  fear  of  insurrection." 

The  Judge  smiled,  indulgently,  willing  to  humor  the  fan 
cies  of  foreigners,  who  were  not  supposed  to  understand 
American  institutions. 

"Your  ideas  would  be  perfectly  sound,  my  dear  sir,  if 
you  were  dealing  with  any  other  country  where  the  col 
ored  man  is  the  recognized  servant  of  the  land  and  of  the 
land  owners.  But  we  of  the  South,  sir,  understand  their 
needs  and  just  the  proper  amount  of  control  necessary  to 
be  enforced  for  mutual  protection.  They  have  grown  up 
under  that  training  until  it  is  a  part  of  themselves.  There 
are  refractory  blacks,  of  course,  just  as  there  are  worthless 
demoralized  whites,  but  I  assure  you,  sir,  I  voice  the  senti 
ments  of  our  people  when  I  state  that  the  families  of  South 
ern  planters  feel  much  more  secure  when  guarded  by  their 
colored  folk  than  they  would  if  surrounded  by  a  troop  of 
Northern  soldiery.  There  have  been  no  cases  where  white 
women  and  children  have  had  reason  to  regret  having 
trusted  to  the  black  man's  guardianship,  sir.  In  that  respect 
I  believe  we  Southrons  hold  a  unique  place  in  history. 
The  evils  of  slavery,  perfectly  true  in  many  lands,  are  not 
true  here.  The  proofs  of  it  are  many.  Their  dependence  on 
each  other  is  mutual.  Each  understands  and  respects  that 
fact,  sir,  and  the  highest  evidence  of  it  is  shown  when  the 
master  marches  to  meet  their  common  enemy,  and  leaves  his 
wife  and  children  to  the  care  of  the  oldest  or  most  intelli 
gent  of  his  bondsmen. 

"I  tell  you,  sir,  the  people  of  Europe  cannot  comprehend 
the  ties  between  those  two  races,  because  the  world  has  seen 
nothing  like  it.  The  Northern  people  have  no  understand- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  131 

ing  of  it,  because,  sir,  their  natures  are  not  such  as  to  call 
forth  such  loyalty.  They  are  a  cold,  unresponsive  people, 
and  the  only  systematic  cruelty  ever  practiced  against  the 
colored  folks  by  Americans  has  been  by  the  New  England 
slavers,  sir.  The  slave  trade  has  always  been  monopolized 
by  the  Northern  folks  in  this  country — by  the  puritanical 
New  Englanders  who  used  to  sell  the  pickaninnies  at  so 
much  a  pound,  as  cattle  or  sheep  are  sold. 

"They  are  no  longer  able  to  derive  a  profit  from  it,  hence 
their  desire  to  abolish  the  revenue  of  the  South.  I  assure 
you,  sir,  if  the  colored  man  could  endure  the  climate  of 
their  bleak  land  there  would  be  no  shouting  for  abolition." 

It  was  only  natural  that  Delaven  should  receive  a  good 
deal  of  information  those  days  from  the  Southern  side  of  the 
question.  Much  of  it  was  an  added  education  to  him — the 
perfect  honesty  of  the  speakers,  the  way  in  which  they 
entered  heart  and  soul  into  the  discussion  of  their  state's 
rights,  the  extreme  sacrifices  offered  up,  the  lives  of  their 
sons,  the  wealth,  the  luxury  in  which  they  had  lived,  all 
given  up  without  protest  for  the  cause.  Women  who  had 
lived  and  ruled  like  queens  over  the  wide  plantations,  were 
now  cutting  their  living  expenses  lower  and  lower,  that  the 
extra  portion  saved  might  be  devoted  to  their  boys  at  the 
front.  The  muslins  and  linens  for  household  purposes  were 
used  as  Gertrude  Loring  was  using  them  now;  everything 
possible  was  converted  into  bandages  for  hospital  use. 

"I  simply  don't  dare  let  the  house  servants  do  it,"  she 
explained,  in  reply  to  the  Judge's  query.  "They  could  do 
the  work,  of  course,  but  they  never  have  had  to  practice 
economy,  and  I  can't  undertake  to  teach  it  to  them  as  well 
as  myself,  and  to  both  at  the  same  time.  Oh,  yes,  Margeret 
is  capable,  of  course,  but  she  has  her  hands  full  to  watch 
those  in  the  cook  house." 


132  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Her  smile  was  very  bright  and  contented.  It  hinted 
nothing  of  the  straightened  circumstances  gradually  sur 
rounding  them,  making  a  close  watch  in  all  directions  abso 
lutely  necessary.  Affairs  were  reaching  a  stage  where 
money,  except  in  extravagant  quantities,  was  almost  use 
less.  The  blockade  had  raised  even  the  most  simple  arti 
cles  to  the  price  of  luxuries.  All  possessions,  apart  from 
their  home  productions,  must  be  husbanded  to  the  utmost. 

"You  are  a  brave  little  woman,  Miss  Gertrude,"  said  the 
Judge,  bowing-  before  her  with  a  certain  reverence.  "All  the 
battles  of  this  war  are  not  fought  to  the  sound  of  regimental 
music,  and  our  boys  at  the  front  shoot  straighter  when  they 
have  at  home  women  like  you  to  guard.  Our  women  of  the 
South  are  an  inspiration — an  inspiration !" 

No  courtier  of  storied  Castile  could  have  rivaled  the 
grace  of  manner  with  which  the  praise  was  spoken,-  so 
thought  Delaven,  for  all  his  mental  pictures  of  Castillian 
courtesies  revealed  them  as  a  bit  theatrical,  while  the  Judge 
was  sincerity  itself. 

As  he  spoke,  the  soft  sound  of  wheels  was  heard  in  the 
hall,  and  Matthew  Loring,  in  his  invalid  chair,  was  rolled 
slowly  out  on  the  veranda  by  his  man,  Ben.  Margeret 
followed  with  a  light  robe  over  her  arm,  and  a  fan. 

"Not  there,  Ben,"  she  said,  in  the  low  tone  of  one  giving 
an  order  entirely  personal  and  not  intended  to  be  heard  by 
the  others,  "the  draught  does  seem  to  coax  itself  round  that 
corner,  and — " 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  broke  in  the  master  of  Loringwood,  ab 
ruptly.  "No  more  draught  there  than  anywhere  else.  It's 
all  right,  Ben,  wheel  me  to  that  railing." 

Margeret  silently  spread  the  robe  over  his  -knees,  laid  the 
fan  in  his  lap,  adjusted  the  cushion  back  of  his  head,  and 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  133 

re-entered  the  house  with  a  slight  gesture  to  Ben,  who 
followed  her. 

"She's  a  puzzle  entirely,"  remarked  Delaven,  who  was 
watching  them  from  the  rustic  seat  nearest  the  steps.  Evi- 
lena  was  seated  there,  and  he  stood  beside  her. 

"Margeret  ?  Why  ?"  she  asked,  in  the  same  low  tone. 
"I'll  tell  you.  Not  thirty  minutes  ago  I  told  her  he  could 
be  brought  out  and  have  his  chair  placed  so  that  the  sun 
would  be  on  his  limbs,  but  not  on  his  head.  Now,  what 
does  she  do  but  pilot  him  out  and  discourage  him  from 
going  to  just  the  corner  that  was  best." 

"And  you  see  the  result,"  whispered  the  girl,  who  was 
laughing.  "Margeret  knows  a  lot.  Just  see  how  satisfied 
he  is,  now,  the  satisfaction  of  having  had  to  fight  some  one. 
If  he  knew  it  was  anybody's  orders,  even  yours,  he  would 
not  enjoy  that  corner  half  so  much.  That  is  the  sweet  dis 
position  of  our  Uncle  Matthew." 

Overhanging  eyebrows  of  iron-gray  were  the  first  thing 
to  arrest  attention  in  Matthew  Loring's  face.  They  shad 
owed  dark  expressive  eyes  in  a  swarthy  setting.  His  hair 
and  mustache  were  of  the  same  grey,  and  very  bushy.  He 
had  the  broad  head  and  square  jaw  of  the  aggressive  type. 
Not  a  large  man,  even  in  his  prime,  he  looked  almost  frail 
as  he  settled  back  in  his  chair.  He  was  probably  sixty,  but 
looked  older. 

"Still  knitting  socks,  Mistress  Nesbitt?"  he  inquired,  with 
a  caustic  smile.  "Charming  occupation.  Do  you  select 
that  quality  and  color  lor  any  beauties  to  be  found  in  them  ? 
I  can  remember  seeing  your  mother  using  knitting  needles 
on  this  very  veranda  thirty — yes,  forty  years  ago.  But  I 
must  say  I  never  saw  her  make  anything  heavier  than  lace. 
And  what's  all  this,  Gertrude?  Do  you  entertain  your  visit 
ors  these  days  by  dragging  out  the  old  linen  for  their  in- 


134  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

spection  ?    Why  are  you  dallying  with  the  servants'  tasks  ?" 

"No;  it  is  my  own  task,  uncle,"  returned  his  niece,  with 
unruffled  serenity.  "Not  a  very  beautiful  one,  but  consol 
ing  because  of  its  usefulness." 

"Usefulness — huh !  In  your  mother's  day  ladies  were  not 
expected  to  be  useful." 

"Alas  for  us  that  the  day  is  past,"  said  the  girl,  tearing 
off  another  strip  of  muslin. 

"Now,  do  you  wonder  that  I  adore  my  Judge?"  whis 
pered  Evilena  to  Delaven. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Despite  his  natural  irritability,  to  which  no  one  appeared 
to  pay  much  attention,  Mr.  Loring  grew  almost  cordial 
under  the  geniality  and  hopefulness  emanating  from  Judge 
Clarkson,  whom  he  was  really  very  glad  to  see,  and  of  whom 
he  had  numberless  queries  to  ask  regarding  the  hostilities 
of  the  past  few  months. 

The  enforced  absence  abroad  had  kept  him  in  a  highly 
nervous  condition,  doing  much  to  counteract  the  utmost 
care  given  him  by  the  most  learned  specialists  of  Europe. 
Half  his  fortune  had  been  lost  by  those  opening  guns  at 
Sumter.  His  warehouses,  piled  with  great  cotton  bales  for 
shipment  to  England,  had  been  fired — burned  to  the  ground. 
The  capture  of  Beaufort,  near  which  was  another  planta 
tion  of  his,  had  made  further  wreck  for  him,  financially,  and 
whatever  the  foreign  doctors  might  to  with  his  body,  his 
mind  was  back  in  Carolina,  eager,  questioning,  combative. 
He  was  burning  himself  up  with  a  fever  of  anxiety. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  135 

''It  is  all  of  no  use,  Mademoiselle,"  said  the  most  dis 
tinguished  specialist  whom  she  had  consulted,  "Monsieur, 
your  uncle  will  live  for  many  years  if  but  the  mind  is  com 
posed — no  shocks,  no  heavy  loads  to  carry.  But  the  mind, 
you  perceive — it  is  impossible  for  him  to  allow  himself  to  be 
composed  away  from  his  country.  We  have  done  all  that 
can  be  done  here.  To  return  to  his  own  land  under  the 
care  of  a  competent  physician,  of  course,  would  be  now  the 
best  arrangement  I  could  suggest.  He  may  live  there  for 
many  years ;  here,  he  will  most  certainly  die." 

At  Loring's  request  Dr.  Delaven  was  the  physician  who 
had  been  approached  with  the  proposal  to  accompany  him 
to  Carolina.  Wrhy,  it  would  be  hard  to  guess,  for  they  were 
totally  unlike  in  every  way — had  not,  apparently,  a  single 
taste  in  common.  But  the  physician  in  charge  of  the  hos 
pital  approved  his  judgment. 

"It  is  a  most  wise  one,  Monsieur  Loring.  Dr.  Delaven 
has  shown  as  his  specialty  cases  similar  to  your  own,  and 
has  proven  most  successful.  Withal,  he  is  adventurous.  He 
will  enjoy  the  new  country,  and  he  is  of  your  own  language. 
All  I  could  do  for  you  he  can  do,  perhaps  more ;  for  I  am 
old,  while  he  is  young  and  alive  with  enthusiasms  with 
which  to  supplement  his  technical  knowledge." 

Gertrude  only  delayed  their  departure  long  enough  to 
write  Col.  McVeigh,  who  was  in  London.  He  secured  for 
them  transportation  to  Nassau  under  the  guardianship  of  an 
official  who  would  take  most  extreme  care  that  the  party 
be  conveyed  from  there  by  some  blockade  runner  to  be 
depended  upon.  And  that  the  Federal  blockade  often  failed 
of  its  purpose  was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  they  were 
quietly  landed  one  night  in  a  little  inlet  south  of  Charleston, 
which  they  reached  by  carriage,  and  rested  there  a  few  days 
before  attempting  the  journey  overland. 


136  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

The  doctors  were  correct  as  to  the  beneficial  results  of 
the  home  coming  of  Loring.  It  acted  like  a  tonic  and  the 
thought  of  outwitting  the  Yankees  of  that  blockade  pleased 
him  immensely.  He  never  gave  a  thought  to  the  girl  who 
watched  with  pale  face  and  sleepless  eyes  through  that  dash 
for  the  shore.  Delaven  mentally  called  him  a  selfish  brute. 

The  visit  of  Judge  Clarkson  was  partially  an  affair  of  busi 
ness,  but  after  a  private  interview  with  Delaven  he  decided 
to  dismiss  all  idea  of  business  settlements  until  later. 
Nothing  of  an  annoying  or  irritating  nature  must  be 
broached  to  the  convalescent  just  yet. 

The  Judge  confessed  that  it  was  an  affair  over  which  Mr. 
Loring  had  been  deeply  chagrined — a  clear  loss  of  a  large 
sum  of  money,  and  perhaps  it  would  be  safer,  under  the 
circumstances,  to  await  Col.  McVeigh's  return.  Col.  Mc 
Veigh  was  equally  interested,  and  neither  he  nor  the  Judge 
would  consent  to  risk  an  attack  similar  to  that  experienced 
by  Mr.  Loring  during  the  bombardment  of  Port  Royal  en 
trance.  He  was  at  that  time  on  his  Beaufort  plantation, 
where  the  blue  coats  overran  his  place  after  they  landed, 
and  it  was  known  to  have  been  nothing  else  than  a  fit  of 
rage  at  their  victory,  and  rage  at  the  planters  who  fled  on 
all  sides  of  him,  which  finally  ended  in  the  prostration  for 
which  the  local  physicians  could  find  no  remedy.  Then  it 
was  that  Gertrude  took  him  abroad,  with  the  result  de 
scribed.  It  was  understood  the  prostration  had  taught  him 
one  useful  lesson — he  no  longer  cultivated  the  rages  for 
which  he  had  been  locally  famous.  As  he  was  unable  to 
stamp  and  roar,  he  compromised  on  sneers  and  caustic  re 
torts,  from  which  he  appeared  to  derive  an  amount  of  satis 
faction  tonical  in  its  effects. 

The  Judge  was  giving  Delaven  the  details  of  the  Beaufort 
affair  when  Ben  wheeled  his  master  into  the  room.  There 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  137 

was  an  awkward  pause,  a  slight  embarrassment,  but  he  had 
caught  the  words  "Port  Royal  entrance,"  and  compre 
hended. 

"Huh !  Talking  over  that  disaster,  Judge?"  he  remarked. 
"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  you  can't  convey  to  a  foreigner  any 
thing  of  the  feeling  of  the  South  over  those  misfortunes ; 
to  have  Sherman's  tramps  go  rough-shod  over  your  lawns 
and  rest  themselves  with  braggadocio  at  your  tables — the 
most  infernal  riff-raff — " 

"One  moment,"  interposed  the  Judge,  blandly,  with  a 
view  to  check  the  unpleasant  reminiscences.  "Did  I  not 
hear  you  actually  praise  one  of  those  Yankees? — in  fact, 
assert  that  he  was  a  very  fine  fellow  ?" 

"Yes,  yes ;  I  had  forgotten  him.  A  Yankee  captain ;  or 
dered  the  blue-coats  to  the  right-about  when  he  found  there 
was  only  a  sick  man  and  a  girl  there ;  and  more  than  that, 
so  long  as  those  scavengers  were  ashore  and  parading 
"around  Beaufort  he  kept  men  stationed  at  my  gates  for  safe 
guard  duty.  A  fine  fellow,  for  a  Yankee.  I  can  only  ac 
count  for  it  by  the  fact  that  he  was  a  West  Point  graduate, 
and  was  thus  thrown,  to  a  certain  extent,  into  the  society 
and  under  the  influences  of  our  own  men.  Kenneth,  Col. 
McVeigh,  had  known  Monroe  there — his  name  was  Mon 
roe — Captain  John  Monroe — at  Beaufort  his  own  men  called 
him  Captain  Jack." 


"Just  as  she  was  stepping  on  ship  board: 
'Your  name  I'd  like  to  know?' 

And  with  a  smile  she  answered  him, 
'My  name  is  Jack  Monroe!'  " 


sang  a  fresh  voice  outside  the  window,  and  then  the  cur 
tain  was  pushed  aside  and  Evilena's  brown  head  appeared. 


138  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"I  really  could  not  help  that,  Mr.  Loring,"  she  said,  laugh 
ingly.  "The  temptation  was  too  great.  Did  you  never 
whistle  'Jack  Monroe'  when  you  were  a  boy  ?" 

"No,  I  can't  say  I  ever  did,"  he  replied,  testily. 

"It's  intensely  interesting,"  she  continued,  seating  herself 
on  the  window  sill  and  regarding  him  with  smiling  interest, 
made  bold  by  the  presence  of  her  champion,  the  Judge. 
"Aunt  Sajane  taught  it  to  me,  an  old,  old  sailor  song.  It's 
all  about  her  sweetheart,  Jack,  not  Aunt  Sajane's  sweet 
heart,  but  the  girl's.  Her  wealthy  relatives  separate  them 
by  banishing  him  to  the  wars  somewhere,  and  she  dressed 
up  in  boy's  clothes  to  follow  him. 

"  'She  went  unto  a  tailor 

And  dressed  in  men's  array, 
And  thence  unto  a  sailor 

And  paid  her  fare  away.'  " 

recited  Evilena,  with  uplifted  finger  punctuating  the  sen 
tences.  "Wasn't  she  brave?  Well,  she  found  him,  and 
they  were  married.  There  are  seven  verses  of  it." 

"I — I  should  think  that  quite  enough,"  he  remarked, 
dropping  his  head  forward  and  looking  at  her  from  under 
the  overhanging  brows.  "Do  you  mean  to  sing  them  all 
to  me?" 

"Perhaps,  some  day,"  she  promised,  showing  all  her  teeth 
and  dropping  the  curtain. 

"So  now  this  couple's  married, 

Despite  their  bitter  foe, 
And  she's  back  again  in  England 

With  her  darling,  Jack  Monroe." 

The  two  visitors  laughed  outright  as  this  information  was 
wafted  to  them  from  the  veranda,  the  old  song  growing 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  139 

more  faint  as  the  singer  circled  the  house  in  search  of 
Gertrude. 

"A  true  daughter  of  the  South,  Dr.  Delaven,"  said  the 
Judge,  with  a  tender  cadence  betraying  how  close  to  his 
heart  was  his  pride  in  all  Southern  excellence — "child  and 
woman  in  one,  sir — a  charming  combination." 

"Right  you  are,  Judge,  in  that ;  may  their  numbers  never 
be  less." 

Evilena  had  found  Gertrude  and  at  once  confessed  her 
daring. 

"Don't  know  how  I  ever  did  have  courage  to  pop  my 
head  in  there.  Aunt  Sajane — but  he  talked  of  Jack  Mon 
roe  just  as  I  passed  the  window,  and  I  pretended  I  thought 
he  meant  the  old  song  (I  do  wonder  if  he  ever — ever  sang 
or  whistled?)  Then  I  told  him  what  it  was  all  about,  and 
promised,  to  sing  it  to  him  some  day,  and  I  know  by  the 
sort  of  smile  he  had  that  he  wanted  to  order  me  out  of  the 
room  as  he  used  to  when  I  was  little." 

"Lena,  Lena !"  and  Gertrude  shook  her  head  admonish- 
ingly  at  the  girl,  though  she  smiled  at  the  recital. 

"Oh,  you  are  an  angel,  Gertrude;  so  you  never  have 
temptations  to  do  things  for  pure  mischief.  But  I  wish 
you'd  tell  me  who  this  Jack  Monroe  is." 

"A  Federal  officer  who  was  of  service  to  us  when  Beau 
fort  was  taken." 

"A  Yankee]" — and  her  horror  was  absolute.  "Well,  I 
should  not  think  you'd  accept  service  from  such  a  person." 

"Honey!"  said  Aunt  Sajane,  in  mild  chiding. 

"We  had  no  choice,"  said  Gertrude,  quietly;  "afterwards 
we  learned  he  and  Kenneth  had  been  friends  at  West  Point ; 
so  he  was  really  a  gentleman." 

"And  in  the  Yankee  Army?"  queried  the  irrepressible. 
"Good-bye,  Jack  Monroe,  I  shan't  sing  you  again." 


140  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"You  might  be  faithful  to  one  verse  for  Gertrude's  sake," 
ventured  Aunt  Sajane. 

"Gertrude's  sake?" 

"Why,  yes;  he  protected  them  from  the  intrusion  of  the 
Yankees." 

"Oh — h !  Aunt  Sajane,  I  really  thought  you  were  going  to 
ferret  out  a  romance — a  Romeo  and  Juliet  affair — their  fam 
ilies  at  war,  and  themselves — " 

"Evilena !" 

"When  Gertrude  says  'Evilena'  in  that  tone  I  know  it  is 
time  to  stop,"  said  the  girl,  letting  go  the  kitten  she  was 
patting,  and  putting  her  arm  around  Gertrude.  "You  dear, 
sensible  Gertrude,  don't  mind  one  word  I  say ;  of  course  I 
did  not  mean  it.  Just  as  if  we  did  not  have  enough  Romeo's 
in  our  own  army  to  go  around." 

The  significant  glance  accompanying  her  words  made 
Gertrude*look  slightly  conscious. 

"You  are  a  wildly  romantic  child,"  she  said,  smoothing 
the  chestnut  tinted  waves  of  the  girl's  hair,  "and  pray,  tell  us 
how  many  of  our  military  Romeos  are  singing  'Sweet 
Evilena,'  and  wearing  your  colors  ?" 

Dr.  Delaven  passed  along  the  hall  in  time  to  hear  this 
bantering  query,  and  came  opposite  the  door  when  this  true 
daughter  of  the  South  was  counting  all  the  fingers  of  one 
pretty  hand. 

"Just  make  it  a  half  dozen,"  he  suggested,  for  I'm  wear 
ing  yet  the  sunflower  you  gave  me,"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
large  daisy  in  his  buttonhole. 

"No,  I'm  always  honest  with  Gertrude,  and  she  must  have 
the  true  number.  We  are  talking  of  military  men,  and  all 
others  are  barred  out." 

"So  you  informed  me  the  first  day  of  our  acquaintance," 
he  assented,  arranging  the  daisy  more  to  his  liking. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  141 

"And  I've  never  forgiven  you  for  that  first  day,"  she  re 
torted,  nodding  her  head  in  a  way  suggestive  of  some  dire 
punishment  waiting  for  him  in  the  future.  "It  was  dread 
ful,  the  way  he  led  me  on  to  say  things,  Aunt  Sajane,  for 
how  was  I  to  guess  he  was  the  doctor  ?  I  was  expecting  a 
man  like — well,  like  Dr.  Allison,  only  more  so  ;  very  learned, 
very  severe,  with  eye  glasses  through  which  he  would  ex 
amine  us  as  though  we  were  new  specimens  discovered  in 
the  wilds  of  America.  I  certainly  did  not  expect  to  find  a 
frivolous  person  who  wore  daisies,  and — oh !"  as  she  caught 
a  glimpse  of  some  one  coming  up  the  path  from  the  landing 
— "there  comes  Nelse.  Gertrude,  can't  I  have  him  in  here  ?" 

"May  I  ask  if  Nelse  is  one  of  the  five  distinguished  by 
your  colors  ?"  asked  Delaven. 

"Nelse  is  distinguished  by  his  own  colors,  which  is  a  fine 
mahogany,  and  he  is  the  most  interesting  old  reprobate  in 
Carolina — a  wizard,  if  you  please — a  sure  enough  voodoo 
doctor,  and  the  black  historian  of  the  Salkahatchie.  May  I 
call  him?" 

"I  really  do  not  think  uncle  likes  to  have  him  around," 
said  Gertrude,  dubiously ;  "still — oh,  yes,  call  him  if  you  like. 
Don't  let  him  tire  you  with  his  stories ;  and  keep  him  out  of 
uncle's  way.  He  would  be  sure  to  tell  him  about  those  late 
runaways." 

"I  promise  to  stand  guard  in  that  case  myself,  Miss  Lor- 
ing;  for  I  have  a  prejudice  against  allowing  witch-doctors 
access  to  my  patients." 

Mrs.  Nesbitt  arose  as  if  to  follow  Gertrude  from  the  room, 
hesitated,  and  resumed  her  chair. 

"When  I  was  a  girl  we  young  folks  were  all  half  afraid  of 
Nelse — not  that  he  ever  harmed  any  one,"  she  confessed. 
"The  colored  folks  said  he  was  a  wizard,  but  I  never  did  give 
credit  to  that." 
10 


142  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Aunt  Chloe,  she  says  he  is !" 

"Oh,  yes;  and 'Aunt  Chloe  sees  ghosts,  and  talks  with 
goblins,  to  hear  her  tell  the  story ;  but  that  old  humbug  is 
just  as  much  afraid  of  a  mouse  as — as  I  am." 

"Nelse  is  a  free  nigger,"  explained  Evilena,  turning  from 
the  window  after  having  motioned  him  to  enter.  "He  was 
made  free  by  his  old  master,  Marmaduke  Loring,  and  the 
old  rascal — I  mean  Nelse,  bought  himself  a  wife,  paid  for 
her  out  of  his  jockey  earnings,  and  when  she  proved  a  dis 
appointment  what  do  you  think  he  did?" 

Delaven  could  not  get  beyond  a  guess,  as  the  subject  of 
her  discourse  had  just  then  appeared  in  the  door. 

He  was  a  small,  black  man,  quite  old,  but  with  a  curious 
attempt  at  jauntiness,  as  he  made  his  three  bows  with  his 
one  hand  on  his  breast,  the  other  holding  his  cane  and  a 
jockey  cap  of  ancient  fashion.  It  contrasted  oddly  with  the 
swallow-tailed  coat  he  wore,  which  had  evidently  been  made 
for  a  much  larger  man ;  the  sleeves  came  to  his  finger  tips, 
and  the  tails  touched  his  heels.  The  cloth  of  which  it  was 
made  was  very  fine  dark  blue,  with  buttons  of  brass.  His 
waistcoat  of  maroon  brocade  came  half  way  to  his  knees. 
Warm  as  the  day  was  he  wore  a  broad  tie  of  plaid  silk  ar 
ranged  in  a  bow,  above  which  a  white  muslin  collar  rose  to 
his  ears.  He  was  evidently  an  ancient  beau  of  the  planta 
tions  in  court  dress. 

"Yo'  servant,  Miss  Sajane,  Miss  Lena ;  yo'  servant, 
Mahstah,"  he  said  with  a  bow  to  each.  "I  done  come  pay 
my  respects  to  the  family  what  got  back.  I'm  powerful  glad 
to  heah  they  got  safe  ovah  that  ocean." 

"Oh,  yes ;  you're  very  thankful  when  you  wait  two  whole 
weeks  before  you  come  around  to  say  'howdy.'  Have  you 
moved  so  far  into  the  swamp  you  can't  even  hear  when  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  143 

family  comes  home?  Sit  down,  you're  tired  likely.  Tell 
us  all  the  news  from  your  alligator  pasture." 

"My  king !  Miss  Lena,  you  jest  the  same  tant'lizin'  little 
lady.  Yo'  growen'  up  don't  make  you  outgrow  nothen'  but 
yo'  clothes.  My  'gatah  pasture?  I  show  yo'  my  little 
patch  some  o'  these  days — show  yo'  what  kind  'gatahs  pas 
ture  theah ;  why,  why,  I  got  'nigh  as  many  hogs  as  Mahs 
Matt  has  niggahs  these  days." 

"Yes,  and  he  hasn't  so  many  as  he  did  have,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Nesbitt,  significantly.  "You  know  anything  about 
where  Scip  and  Aleck  are  gone?" 

"Who — me  ?  Miss  Sajane  ?  You  think  I  keep  time  on  all 
the  runaway  boys  these  days?  They  too  many  for  me.  It 
sutenly  do  beat  all  how  they  scatter.  Yo'  all  hear  tell  how 
one  o'  Cynthy's  boys  done  run  away,  too?  Suah  as  I  tell 
you — that  second  boy,  Steve !  Ole  Mahs  Masterson  got 
him  dogs  out  fo'  him — tain't  no  use;  nevah  touched  the 
track  once.  He'll  nevah  stop  runnen'  till  he  reach  the 
Nawth  an'  freeze  to  death.  I  alles  tole  Cynthy  that  Steve 
boy  a  bawn  fool." 

"Do  you  mean  your  son  Steve,  or  your  grandson?" 
queried  Mrs.  Nesbitt. 

"No'm,  'taint  little  Steve ;  his  mammy  got  too  much  sense 
to  let  him  go ;  but  that  gal,  Cynthy — humph !"  and  his  dis 
dain  of  her  perceptive  powers  was  very  apparent. 

"But,  Uncle  Nelse,  just  remember  Aunt  Cynthy  must  be 
upwards  of  seventy.  Steve  is  fifty  if  he  is  a  day.  How  do 
you  suppose  she  could  control  him,  even  if  she  knew  of  his 
intention,  which  is  doubtful." 

"She  nevah  would  trounce  that  rascal,  even  in  his  young 
est  days,"  asserted  Nelse,  earnestly ;  "and  as  the  'bush  is  bent 
the  tree's  declined.'  I  use  to  kote  that  scripper  to  her  many's 
the  day,  but  how  much  good  it  do  to  plant  cotton  seed  on 


144  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

stony  groun'  or  sow  rice  on  the  high  Ian'  ?  Jes'  that  much 
good  scripper  words  done  Cynthy,  an'  no  more." 

His  tone  betrayed  a  sorrowful  but  impersonal  regret 
over  the  refractory  Cynthia,  and  their  joint  offspring. 
Evilena  laughed. 

"Where  did  you  get  so  well  acquainted  with  the  scrip 
ture,  Nelse?"  she  asked.  I  know  you  never  did  learn  it 
from  your  beloved  old  Mahs  Duke  Loring.  I  want  you  to 
tell  this  gentleman  all  about  the  old  racing  days.  This  is 
Dr.  Delaven  (Nelse  made  a  profound  bow).  He  has  seen 
great  races  abroad  and  hunted  foxes  in  Ireland.  I  want  you 
to  tell  him  of  the  bear  hunts,  and  the  horses  you  used  to  ride, 
and  how  you  rode  for  freedom.  The  race  was  so  important, 
Dr.  Delaven,  that  Marmaduke  Loring  promised  Nelse  his 
freedom  if  he  won  it,  and  he  had  been  offered  three  thou 
sand,  five  hundred  dollars  for  Nelse,  more  than  once." 

"Nevah  was  worth  as  much  to  myself  as  I  was  to  Mahs 
Duke,"'  said  Nelse,  shaking  his  head.  "I  tell  yo'  true,  free 
dom  was  a  sure  enough  hoodoo,  far  as  I  was  concerned ; 
nevah  seemed  to  get  so  much  out  o'  the  horses  after  I  was 
my  own  man ;  nevah  seemed  to  see  so  much  money  as  I 
owned  befo',  an'  every  plum  thing  I  'vested  in  was  a  failure 
from  the  start ;  there  was  that  gal  o'  Mahs  Masterson's — 
that  there  Cynthy — " 

The  old  man's  garrulity  was  checked  by  the  noiseless  en 
trance  of  Margeret.  He  gave  a  distinct  start  as  he  saw  her. 

"I — I  s'lute  yo',  Miss  Retta,"  he  said,  sweeping  his  cap 
along  the  floor  and  bowing  from  where  he  sat.  She  glanced 
at  him,  bent  her  head  slightly  in  acknowledgment,  but  did 
not  address  him. 

"Miss  Loring  asks  to  see  you  in  the  dining  room,  Mis 
tress  Nesbitt,"  she  said  softly ;  then  drawing  a  blind  where 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  145 

the  sun  was  too  glaring,  and  opening  another  that  the  breeze 
might  be  more  apparent,  she  passed  silently  out. 

The  old  man  never  spoke  until  she  disappeared. 

"My  king! — she  get  mo'  ghost-like  every  yeah,  that 
Retta,"  he  said,  while  Evilena  gathered  up  the  ball  of  stock 
ing  yard  and  wound  it  for  Mrs.  Nesbitt ;  "only  the  eyes  o' 
that  woman  would  tell  a  body  who  she  is,  these  days ; 
seems  like  the  very  shape  o'  her  face  been  changed  sence 
she—" 

"Nelse,"  said  Mrs.  Nesbitt,  a  trifle  sharply,  "whatever  you 
do  you  are  not  to  let  Mr.  Loring  know  about  those  runa 
ways  ;  maybe  you  better  keep  out  of  his  sight  altogether  this 
visit,  for  he's  sure  to  ask  questions  about  everything,  and 
the  doctor's  orders  are  that  he  is  not  to  see  folks  or  have 
any  business  talks — you  understand  ?  and  nothing  ever  does 
excite  him  so  much  as  a  runaway." 

Oh,  yes,  Miss  Sajane,  I  un'stan' ;  I'll  keep  out.  Hearen' 
how  things  was  I  jes'  come  down  to  see  if  Miss  Gertrude 
needs  any  mo'  help  looken'  after  them  field  niggahs.  They 
nevah  run  away  from  me." 

"Well"— and  she  halted  doubtfully  at  the  door— "I'll  tell 
her.  And  if  you  want  Dr.  Delaven  to  hear  about  the  old 
racing  days,  honey,  hadn't  you  better  take  him  into  the  li 
brary  where  the  portraits  are?  I'm  a  trifle  uneasy  lest  Mr. 
Loring  should  take  a  notion  to  come  in  here.  Since  he's 
commenced  to  walk  a  little  he  is  likely  to  appear  anywhere 
but  in  the  library.  He  never  does  seem  to  like  the  library 
corner." 

Delaven  glanced  at  the  library  walls  as  the  three  advanced 
thereto — walls  paneled  in  natural  cedar,  and  hung  with 
large  gilt  frames  here  and  there  between  the  cases  of  books. 
"I  should  think  any  man  would  like  a  room  like  this,"  he 
remarked,  especially  when  it  holds  one's  own  family  por- 


146  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

traits.  There  is  a  picture  most  attractive — a  fine  make  of  a 
man." 

"That  Mahs  Tom  Loring,  Miss  Gertrude's  father,"  ex 
plained  Nelse.  "Jest  as  fine  as  he  looks  theah,  Mahs  Tom 
was,  and  ride ! — king  in  heaven !  but  he  could  ride.  'Taint 
but  a  little  while  back  since  he  was  killed,  twenty  yeahs 
maybe — no,  eighteen  yeahs  come  Christmas.  He  was  fol- 
lowen'  the  houn's,  close  on,  when  his  horse  went  down  an' 
Mahs  Tom  picked  up  dead,  his  naik  broke.  His  wife,  Miss 
Leo  Masterson,  she  was,  she  died  some  yeahs  befo',  when 
Miss  Gertrude  jest  a  little  missy.  So  they  carried  him  home 
from  Larue  plantation — that  wheah  he  get  killed — an'  bury 
him  back  yonder  beside  her,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  group  of 
pines  across  the  field  to  the  north ;  "so,  after  that — " 

"Oh,  Nelse,  tell  about  live  things — not  dead  ones,"  sug 
gested  Evilena,  "tell  about  the  races  and  your  Mahs  Duke, 
how  he  used  to  go  horseback  all  the  way  to  Virginia,  to  the 
races,  and  even  to  Philadelphia,  and  how  all  the  planters 
gathered  for  hundreds  of  miles,  some  of  the  old  ones  wear 
ing  small  clothes  and  buckled  shoes,  and  how — " 

"Seems  like  you  done  mind  them  things  so  well  'taint  no 
use  tryen'  to  rake  up  the  buried  reck'lections  o'  the  pas' 
times,"  said  the  old  man,  rebukingly,  and  with  a  certain 
pomposity.  "I  reckon  now  you  'member  all  the  high  qual 
ity  gentlemen.  The  New  Market  Jockey  Club,  an'  how 
they  use  to  meet  reg'lar  as  clock-work  the  second  Tuesday 
in  May  and  October ;  an'  how  my  Mahs  Duke,  with  all  the 
fine  ruffies  down  his  shirt  front,  an'  his  proud  walk,  an'  his 
voice  soft  as  music,  an'  his  grip  hard  as  steel,  was  the  king 
pin  o'  all  the  sports — the  grandest  gentleman  out  o'  Calliny, 
an'  carried  his  head  high  as  a  king  ovah  all  Jerusalem — I 
reckon  you  done  mind  all  that  theah,  Miss  Lena." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  147 

"I  will,  next  time,"  laughed  the  girl,  "go  on,  Nelse,  we 
would  rather  hear  what  you  remember." 

"I  don't  reckon  the  names  o'  the  ole  time  sportin'  gen 
tlemen,  an'  old  time  jockeys,  an'  old  time  stock,  would  count 
much  with  a  gentleman  from  foreign  lan's,"  said  the  old 
man,  with  a  deprecating  bow  to  Delaven.  "But  my  Mahs 
Duke  Loring  nevah  had  less  than  six  horses  in  trainen'  at 
once.  I  was  stable-boy,  an'  jes'  trained  up  with  the  colts 
till  Mahs  Duke  saw  I  could  ride.  I  sartainly  had  luck  with 
racin'  stock,  seein'  which  he  gave  me  clean  charge  o'  the 
whole  racin'  stable ;  'sides  which,  keepen'  my  weight  down 
to  eighty  pounds  let  me  in  for  the  jockey  work — them  was 
days.  I  was  sent  ovah  into  Kaintucky,  an'  up  Nawth  far 
as  Long  Island,  to  ride  races  fo'  otha  gentlemen — friends  o' 
Mahs  Duke's,  an'  every  big  race  I  run  put  nigh  onto  a  hun 
dred  dollar  plump  into  my  own  pocket.  Money? — my 
king!  I  couldn't  see  cleah  how  I  evah  could  spend  all  the 
money  I  got  them  days,  cause  I  didn't  have  to  spend  a 
cent  fo'  clothes  or  feed,  an'  I  had  mo'  presents  give  to  me 
by  the  quality  folks  what  I  trained  horses  fer  than  I  could 
count  or  reck'lect. 

"The  ride  Miss  Lena  done  tole  yo'  of — that  happen  the 
yeah  Mahs  Duke  imported  Lawd  Chester,  half  brother  to 
Bonnie  Bell,  that  won  the  sweepstakes  at  Petersburg,  an' 
sire  o'  Glenalven  out  o'  Lady  Clare,  who  was  owned  by 
Mahs  Hampton  ovah  in  Kaintucky.  Well,  sah,  the  yeah  he 
imported  Chester  was  the  yeah  he  an'  Mr.  Enos  Jackson 
had  the  set-to  'bout  their  two-yeah-olds — leastwise  the  colts 
seemed  to  be  the  cause ;  but  I  don't  mind  tellen',  now,  that 
I  nevah  did  take  stock  in  that  notion,  my  own  self.  Women 
folks  get  mixed  up  even  in  race  fights  an'  I  mind  one  o' 
the  han'some  high  steppers  o'  Philadelphia  way  down  theah 
that  time,  an'  Mistah  Jackson  he  got  a  notion  his  chances 


148  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

mighty  good,  till  long  come  Mahs  Duke  an'  glance  out 
corner  of  his  eye,  make  some  fine  speeches,  an' — fanvell, 
Mistah  Jackson!  Mistah  Jackson  wa'nt  jes'  what  you'd 
call  the  highest  quality,  though  he  did  own  powerful 
stretches  o'  Ian'— -three  plantations  in  Nawth  Calliny,  'sides 
lots  o'  other  property.  He  had  a  colt  called  Darker  he 
'lowed  nothen'  could  keep  in  sight  of,  an'  he  was  good 
stuff — that  colt.  Mistah  Jackson  would  a  had  easy  riden' 
fo'  the  stakes  if  me  an'  Mahs  Duke  hadn't  fetch  Betty 
Pride  up  to  show  'em  what  we  could  do.  Well,  the  upshot 
of  it  was  that  part  on  account  o'  that  Nawthen  flirtatious 
young  pusson  what  liked  Mahs  Duke  the  best,  an'  part  on 
account  o'  Betty  Pride,  Mistah  Jackson  act  mighty  mis- 
chievous-like,  an'  twenty  minutes  afo'  time  was  called  I 
'scovered  that  boy,  Jim  Peters,  what  was  to  ride  Betty 
Pride,  had  been  drugged — jest  a  trifle,  not  enough  to  leave 
him  stupid — but  too  much  to  leave  him  ride,  bright  as  he 
need  be  that  day.  He  said  Mistah  Jackson's  stable  boss  had 
give  him  a  swallow  o'  apple  jack,  an'  king  heaven ! — but 
Mahs  Duke  turn  white  mad  when  I  tole  him.  He  say  to 
Jim's  brother  Mose — Mose  was  his  body  servant — 'Moses, 
fetch  me  my  pistols,'  jest  quiet  like  that;  'Moses,  fetch  me 
my  pistols.'  W7hew ! — but  I  was  scared,  an'  I  says,  'No,  sah,' 
I  says,  'Mahs  Duke,  fo'  heaven's  sake,  don't  stop  the  race, 
an'  I'll  win  it  fo'  you  yet.  Mistah  Jackson  betten  nigh  bout 
all  he  own  on  Darker ;  get  yo'  frien's  to  take  all  bets  fo' 
you,  an'  egg  him  on.  Betty  Pride  ain't  been  tampered 
with ! — take  my  word  fo'  it,  she'll  win  even  with  my  extra 
weight — now,  Mahs  Duke,  fo'  God's  sake,'  says  I,  'go  out 
theah  an'  fool  them  rascals ;  don't  let  on  you  know  'bout 
their  trick ;  take  all  theah  bets,  an'  trust  me.  I  trained  that 
colt,  an'  we'll  win,  Mahs  Duke — if  we  don't — well,  sah,  you 
can  jest  use  them  pistols  on  me.'  I  mos'  got  down  on  my 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  149 

knees  a'  beggen'  him,  an'  his  blue  eyes,  like  steel,  measuren' 
me  an'  weighen'  my  words,  then  he  said :  Til  risk  it,  Nelse, 
but — heaven  help  yo'  if  yo'  fail  me !' 

"I  knew  good  enough  I'd  need  some  powerful  help  if  I 
come  in  second,  fo'  he  had  a  monstrous  temper,  but  kind 
est  man  you  evah  met  when  things  went  his  way.  Well,  jest 
as  I  was  jumpen'  into  my  clothes,  an'  Mahs  Duke  had 
started  to  the  ring,  I  called  out,  half  joken :  'Oh,  Mahs 
Duke,  I'm  a  dead  niggah  if  I  come  in  second,  but  what  yo' 
gwine  to  give  me  if  I  come  in  first  ?' 

"He  turned  at  that  an'  said,  sharp  an'  quick  an'  decided — 
'Yo'  freedom,  Nelse.'  My  king! — that  made  me  shaky,  I 
could  scarce  get  into  my  clothes.  I  knew  he  been  offered  big 
money  fo'  me,  many's  the  time,  an'  now  I  was  gwine  to  get 
it  all  my  own  self. 

"Mahs  Duke  done  jes'  like  I  begged  him — kep'  steady  an' 
cool  an'  take  up  all  Mistah  Jackson's  bets,  and  he  was  jest 
betten  wild  till  he  saw  who  was  on  Betty  Pride,  an'  I  heah 
tell  ne  come  a  nigh  fainten'  when  he  got  sight  o'  me ;  but 
Mehs  Duke's  look  at  'im  must  a  jes'  propped  him  up  an' 
sort  o'  fo'ced  him  to  brave  it  out  till  we  come  aroun'.  It  was 
a  sweepstakes  an'  repeat,  an'  Betty  Pride  come  in  eighteen 
inches  ahead,  an'  that  Nawthen  lady  what  conjure  Mistah 
Jackson  so,  she  fastened  roses  in  Betty  Pride's  bridle,  an' 
gave  me  a  whole  bouquet — with  one  eye  on  Mahs  Duke  all 
the  time,  of  course,  but  Lordy ! — he  wan't  thinken'  much 
about  ladies  jes'  that  minute.  He  won  ovah  thousand  dol 
lars  in  money,  'sides  two  plantations  off  Mistah  Jackson, 
who  nevah  dared  enter  the  jockey  club  aftah  that  day.  An' 
Mahs  Duke  was  good  as  his  word  'bout  the  freedom — he 
give  it  to  me  right  theah ;  that's  my  Mahs  Duke." 

"And  a  fine  sort  of  a  man  he  was,  then,"  commented  Dela- 
ven,  looking  more  closely  at  the  strong,  fine  pictured  face, 


150  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  the  bushy,  leonine  shock  of  tawny  hair  and  the  eyes  that 
smiled  down  with  a  twinkle  of  humor  in  their  blue  depths. 
There  was  a  slight  likeness  to  Matthew  Loring  in  the  heavy 
brows  and  square  chin,  but  the  smile  of  the  father  was 
genial — that  of  the  son,  sardonic. 

"Yes,  sah,"  agreed  Nelse,  when  comment  was  made  upon 
the  likeness,  "Mahs  Matt  favor  him  a  mite,  but  none  to 
speak  of.  Mahs  Tom  more  like  him  in  natur'.  Mahs  Matt 
he  done  take  mo'  likeness  to  his  gran'ma's  folks,  who  was 
French,  from  L'weesiana.  A  mighty  sharp  eye  she  got,  an' 
all  my  Mahs  Duke's  niggahs  walk  straight,  I  tell  yo',  when 
she  come  a  visiten'  to  we  all.  I  heard  tell  how  her  mother 
was  some  sort  o'  great  lady  from  French  court,  packed  off 
to  L'weesiana  'cause  o'  some  politics  like  they  have  ovah 
theah ;  an'  in  her  own  country  she  was  a  princess  or  some 
high  mightiness,  an'  most  o'  her  family  was  killed  in  some 
rebeloution — woman,  too !  All  saved  her  was  getten  to  Or 
leans,  an'  her  daughter,  she  married  ole  Matthew  Loring,  the 
daddy  o'  them  all,  so  far  back  as  I  know." 

The  old  man  had  warmed  to  his  task,  as  floods  of  remin 
iscences  came  sweeping  through  his  memory.  He  grew 
more  important,  and  let  fall  the  borrowed  cloak  of  servility ; 
his  head  was  perched  a  little  higher  and  a  trifle  askew  as  he 
surveyed  them.  The  reflected  grandeur  of  past  days  was  on 
him,  and  in  comparison  modernity  seemed  common-place. 
All  these  brilliant,  dashing,  elegant  men  and  women  of  his 
youth  were  gone.  He  was  the  only  human  echo  left  of 
their  greatness,  and  his  diminutive  person  grew  more  erect 
as  he  realized  his  importance  as  a  landmark  of  the  past. 

"There !"  said  Evilena,  triumphantly,  "isn't  that  as  inter 
esting  as  your  Irish  romances?  Where  would  you  find  a 
landlord  of  England  .or  Ireland  who  \vould  make  a  free  gift 
of  three  thousand  dollars  to  a  servant  ?  They  simply  could 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  151 

not  conceive  of  such  generosity  unless  it  were  the  gift  of  a 
king  or  a  prince,  and  then  it  would  be  put  down  in  their 
histories  for  all  men  to  remember." 

"True  for  you,"  assented  Delaven,  with  the  brogue  he 
was  fond  of  using  at  times  when  with  those  elected  to  com 
radeship  ;  "true  for  you,  my  lady,  but  you  folks  who  are 
kings  and  queens  in  your  own  right  should  be  a  bit  easy 
on  the  unfortunates  who  can  be  only  subjects." 

"They  don't  need  to  be  subjects,"  she  insisted;  "they 
could  assert  their  independence  just  as  we  did." 

"Oh,  sometimes  it  isn't  so  bad — this  being  a  subject.  I've 
found  life  rather  pleasant  down  here  in  the  South,  where 
.you  are  all  in  training  for  the  monarchy  you  mean  to  estab 
lish.  I  don't  mind  being  a  subject  at  all,  at  all,  if  it's  to  the 
right  queen." 

"But  we  didn't  come  in  here  to  talk  politics,"  she  said, 
hastily.  "Uncle  Nelse,  do  tell  Dr.  Delaven  about  your 
freedom  days,  and  all.  He  is  a  stranger  here  and  wants 
to  learn  all  about  the  country  and  customs.  You've  trav 
elled,  Nelse,  so  you  can  tell  him  a  lot." 

"Yes,  reckon  I  could.  Yes,  sah,  I  done  travelled  con 
siderable  ;  the  onliest  advantage  I  could  conjure  up  in  free 
dom  was  goen'  wherever  the  fit  took  me  to  go — jes'  runnen' 
roun'  loose.  My  king!  I  got  good  an'  tiahed  runnen,  / 
tell  yo'.  Went  cleah  out  to  the  Mississippi  river,  I  did — 
spent  all  my  money,  an'  started  back  barefoot,  deed  I  did, 
an'  me  worth  three  thousan'  five  hundred  dollars !  Nevah 
did  know  how  little  sense  I  got  till  I  was  free  to  get  myself 
in  trouble  if  I  liked,  an'  didn't  have  no  Mahs  Duke  to  get 
me  out  again.  More'n  that,  seem  like  I  done  lost  my  luck 
some  way — lost  races  I  had  no  right  to  lose,  till  seem  like 
owners  they  got  scary  'bout  me,  an'  when  I  git  far  away 
from  my  own  stamping  groun',  seem  like  I  wasn't  no  sort  o' 


152  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

use  at  all.  Bye  and  bye  I  fell  in  with  Judge  Warner,  who 
was  a  great  friend  o'  Mahs  Dukes,  and  I  jes'  up  an'  tells  him 
I  done  been  conjured  along  o'  that  freedom  Mahs  Duke 
done  give  me.  My  king!— how  he  did  laugh.  He  offered 
me  a  good  berth  down  on  his  place,  but  I  say,  'no,  sah ;  all 
I  want  is  Mahs  Duke  an'  old  Calliny' ;  so  he  helps  me  to 
some  races  an'  seems  like,  the  very  notion  o'  goen'  home 
done  fetch  me  good  luck  right  off,  'cause  I  made  good 
winnen'  on  his  bay  filly,  Creole,  an'  soon  as  I  got  some 
money  I  bid  far'well  to  wanderen'  an'  made  fo'  home. 

"I  alles  spishuned  Mahs  Duke  know  mo'  'bout  my  trav 
els  than  he  let  on,  fo'  he  jes'  laughed  when  he  see  me  an'  say : 
'All  right,  Nelse,  I  been  looken'  fo'  you  some  time.  Now 
if  yo'  done  got  yo'  fill  o'  seen'  the  world,  'spose  yo'  go  down* 
an'  look  at  the  new  colt  I  got,  an'  take  yo'  ole  place  in  the 
stable.  Yo'  jes'  got  back  in  time  to  spruce  up  the  carriage 
team  fo'  my  wedden'. 

"Well,  sah,  yo'  could  a'  knocked  me  down  with  a  feathah. 
Mahs  Duke  was  thirty-five,  an'  ovah,  an'  had  kep'  his  own 
bachelor  place  fo'  ten  yeah,  loose  an'  free.  Then  all  at  once 
a  new  family  come  down  heah  from  Marylan'.  They  was 
the  Mastersons,  an'  a  Miss  Bar'bra  Vaughn  come  to  visit 
them,  an'  it  was  all  ovah  with  Mahs  Duke.  She  jest  won  in 
a  walk — that  little  lady. 

"An'  he  done  took  her  all  the  way  to  Orleans  fo'  wedden' 
trip.  I  didn't  go  'long.  I  was  done  tired  out  with  travel 
an'  'sides  that,  I'd  been  riden'  ovah  an'  back  to  the  Master- 
son  plantation  fo'  Mahs  Duke  till  I  took  up  with  a  likely 
brown  gal  they  fetched  with  them  from  up  Nawth,  an'  of 
all  niggahs,  Nawthen  niggahs  is  the  off-scourins  o'  the 
yeath — copy  aftah  theh  masters,  I  reckon,  fo'  all  the  real, 
double-distilled  quality  folks  I  met  up  with  in  all  my  travels 
were  gentlemen  o'  the  South,  sah.  Yes,  sah,  they  may 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  .      153 

breed  good  quality  somewheahs  up  theah,  but  all  o'  them 
sent  down  heah  as  samples  ain't  nowhars  with  the  home 
bred  article,  sah. 

"But  I  didn't  know  all  that  them  days,  an'  that  Cynthy 
o'  Mistah  Masterson's  look  mighty  peart  an'  talk  mighty 
knowen',  an'  seem  like  as  we  both  hed  travelled  considerable 
we  both  hed  a  heap  of  talk  'bout ;  an'  the  upshot  of  it  was  I 
felt  boun'  an'  sot  to  buy  that  gal,  if  so  be  they'd  give  me  a 
fair  chance  an'  plenty  o'  time.  Well,  sah,  I  talk  it  ovah  with 
Mahs  Duke,  an'  he  fix  it  so  I  can  have  Cynthy  fo'  three 
hundred  dollars. 

"Seem  like  it's  a  mighty  small  price  to  ask  fo'  a  likely 
young  gal  like  her,  but  I  so  conjured  with  the  notion  o' 
buyen'  her  I  nevah  stopped  to  study  into  the  reasons  why  o' 
things,  special  as  I  had  part  o'  the  money  right  by  me  to 
pay ;  a  pocket  full  o'  money  gets  a  man  into  mo'  trouble 
mostly  than  an  empty  one. 

"Well,  sah,  I  hadn't  owned  her  no  time,  till  I  was  mo' 
sot  in  my  mind  than  evah  as  how  freedom  was  a  hoodoo.  If 
I  hadn't  been  free  I'd  nevah  took  the  notion  to  have  a  free 
wife  o'  my  own,  an'  I'd  a  been  saved  a  lot  o'  torment,  /  tell 
yo'. 

"She  jest  no  good  no  how — that  Cynthy.  How  they  got 
work  out  o'  her  ovah  on  the  Masterson  plantation  I  don't 
know,  fo'  /  couldn't.  Think  she'd  even  cook  vittels  fo'  her 
own  self  if  she  could  help  it  ?  No,  sah !  She  too  plum 
iazy.  She  jes'  had  a  notion  that  bein'  free  meant  doen' 
nothen'  'tall  fo'  no  body.  It  needed  a  whole  meeten' 
house  full  o'  religion  to  get  along  with  that  gal,  'thout  cuss- 
en'  at  her,  an'  as  I'd  done  trained  in  the  race  course  an'  not 
in  a  pulpit,  seem  like  I  noways  fit  for  the  'casion.  But 
I  devilled  along  with  her  for  three  yeahs,  and  she  had 
two  boys  by  that  time — didn't  make  no  sort  o'  differ- 


154  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ence.  She  got  worse  'stead  o'  better  o'  her  worthless- 
ness,  but  I  tried  to  put  up  with  it  till  she  jest  put  the  cap 
sheaf  on  the  hull  business  by  getten'  religion  up  thah  in 
the  gum  tree  settlement,  an'  I  drew  the  line  at  that,  / 
tell  yo.'  Thah  she  was,  howlen'  happy  every  night  in  the 
week  'long-side  o'  Brother  Peter  Mosely.  Brother  Mosely's 
wife  didn't  seem  to  favah  their  religion  no  more'n  I  did ; 
so,  seen'  as  I  couldn't  follow  roun'  aftah  her  with  a  hickory 
switch,  an'  couldn't  keep  her  home  or  at  work  no  othah  way, 
I  just  got  myself  a  divorce,  an'  settled  down  alone  on  a 
patch  o'  Ian'  I  bought  o'  Mahs  Duke,  an'  I  kep'  on  looken' 
aftah  his  stables  long  as  he  kept  any.  He  died  just  afore 
young  Mahs  Tom  married  Miss  Leo  Masterson." 

"But  what  of  the  divorce?  Did  it  improve  her  religion 
or  cure  her  laziness?"  asked  Delaven,  who  found  more  of 
novelty  in  the  black  man's  affairs  than  the  master's. 

"Who — Cinthy?  I  just  sold  her  right  back  to  Mistah 
John  Masterson  fo'  twenty-five  dollar  less  than  I  paid,  an' 
the  youngsters  they  went  into  the  bargain ;  fo'  I  tell  yo',  sah, 
them  Nawthen  niggahs  is  bad  stock  to  manage — if  they's 
big  or  little;  see  what  happened  that  Steve  o'  hern;  done 
run  off,  he  has,  an'  him  ole  enough  to  know  bettah.  Oh, 
yes,  sah,  I  up  an'  I  sold  the  whole  batch ;  that  how  come  I 
get  my  money  back  fo'  her,  an'  stock  my  little  patch  o' 
groun'.  Yes,  sah,  she  got  scared  an'  settle  down  when  I 
done  sold  her  back  again.  Mahs  Masterson  he  got  mo' 
work  out  o'  her  than  I  could ;  he  knew  mo'  'bout  managen' 
them  Nawthen  niggahs." 

"Wouldn't  he  be  a  find  for  those  abolitionists?"  asked 
Evilena,  laughing.  "Nelse,  you've  been  very  entertain 
ing,  and  if  your  Miss  Gertrude  needs  you  to  stay  about  the 
place  we'll  steal  hours  to  hear  about  old  times." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  155 

"Thanky,  Miss  Lena ;  yo'  servant,  sah ;  it  sartainly  does 
do  me  good  to  get  in  heah  an'  see  all  these  heah  faces  again 
— mighty  fine  they  are.  I  mind  when  some  o'  them  was 
painted.  Mahs  Duke's  was  done  in  Orleans ;  so  was  Miss 
Bar'bra,  it's  in  the  pariah.  But  Mahs  Tom — he  had  an 
artis'  painter  come  down  from  Wash'nton  to  do  Miss  Ger 
trude's,  once  when  she  just  got  ovah  sick  spell — he  scared 
lest  she  die  an'  nevah  have  no  likeness ;  her  ma,  she  died 
sudden  that-a-way.  We  all  use  to  think  it  bad  luck  to  get 
likenesses ;  I  nevah  had  none ;  Mahs  Matt  navah  had  none ; 
an'  we're  a  liven'  yet.  All  the  rest  had  'em  took  an'  wheah 
are  they  ?" 

"Now,  Uncle  Nelse,  you  don't  mean  to  say  it  shortens 
people's  lives  to  have  their  picture  taken?" 

"Don't  like  to  say,  Miss  Lena,  but  curious  things  do  hap 
pen  in  this  world.  That  artist  man,  his  name,  Mistah  Mad 
den,  he  made  Mahs  Tom's  likeness,  an'  Mahs  Tom  got 
killed!  An'  all  time  Mahs  Tom's  likeness  was  bein'  done, 
an'  all  time  Miss  Gertrude's  was  a  doin',  that  Mistah  Mad 
den  he  just  go  'stracted  to  print  one  o'  Retta  to  take  'way 
with  him.  All  the  niggahs  jest  begged  her  not  to  let  him, 
but  she  only  laughed — she  laughed  most  o'  the  time  them 
days ;  an'  Mahs  Tom  he  sided  with  Mistah  Madden,  so  she 
give  consent,  an'  he  painted  two — one  monstrous  big  one  to 
take  'way  with  him,  an'  then  a  teeny  one  fo'  a  breastpin ;  he 
give  it  to  Retta  'cause  she  set  still  an'  let  him  make  the  big 
,one.  An'  now  what  happened  ?  Within  a  yeah  Mahs  Tom, 
he  was  killed,  an'  Retta  Caris,  she  about  died  o'  some  crazy 
brain  fever,  an'  it  was  yeahs  afore  she  knew  her  own  name 
again  ;  yes,  went  'wildered  like — she  did  ;  an'  that's  what  two 
likenesses  done  to  my  sutain  knowledge." 

"Then  I've  hoodooed  Dr.  Delaven,  for  I  made  a  pencil 
picture  of  him  only  this  morning." 


156  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"And  if  I  should  fall  down  stairs,  or  into  the  Salkahatchie, 
you  will  know  the  primal  reason  for  it." 

Old  Nelse  shook  him  head  at  such  frivolity. 

"Jes'  'cause  you  all  ain't  afraid  don't  take  yo'  no  further 
off  danger,"  he  said,  soberly.  Then  he  followed  Evilena 
to  the  kitchen,  where  his  entrance  was  greeted  with  con 
siderable  respect.  When  Nelse  appeared  at  Loringwood 
in  his  finest  it  was  a  sort  of  state  affair  in  the  cook  house. 
He  was  an  honored  guest  with  the  grown  folks,  because  the 
grandeurs  he  had  witnessed  and  could  tell  of,  and  he  was  a 
cause  of  dread  to  the  pickaninnies  who  were  often  threatened 
with  banishment  to  the  Unc.  Nelse  glade,  and  they  firmly 
believed  he  immediately  sold  all  the  little  darkies  who  put 
foot  in  his  domain. 

"Isn't  he  delightfully  quaint?"  asked  the  girl,  rejoining 
Delaven.  "Gertrude  never  does  seem  to  find  him  interest 
ing  ;  but  I  do.  She  has  been  used  to  him  always,  of  course, 
and  I  haven't,  and  she  thinks  it  was  awful  for  him  to  sell 
Cynthia,  just  because  she  got  religion  and  would  not  be 
have.  Now,  I  think  it's  funny ;  don't  you  ?" 

"Your  historian  has  given  me  so  many  side-lights  on  sla 
very  that  I'm  dazzled  with  the  brilliancy  of  them ;  whether 
serious  or  amusing,  it  is  astonishing." 

"Only  to  strangers,"  said  the  girl ;  "to  us  they  are  never 
puzzling ;  they  are  only  grown-up  children — even  the  wisest 
— and  need  to  be  managed  like  children.  Those  crazy  abo 
litionists  should  hear  Nelse  on  the  'hoodoo'  of  freedom ;  I 
fancy  he  would  astonish  them." 

"Not  the  slightest  doubt  of  it,"  agreed  Delaven,  who 
usually  did  agree  with  Evilena — except  when  argument 
would  prolong  a  tete-a-tete. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  157 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Gertrude  promptly  assured  old  Nelse  that  the  plantation 
needed  no  extra  caretakers  just  then,  the  work  was  progress 
ing  very  well  since  their  return.  Nelse  swept  the  jockey 
cap  over  his  feet  in  a  profound  bow,  and  sauntered  around 
the  house.  The  mistress  of  Loringwood  asked  Evilena  to 
see  if  he  had  gone  to  his  canoe.  She  did  so,  and  reported 
that  he  had  gone  direct  to  the  stables,  where  he  had  looked 
carefully  over  all  the  horses,  and  found  one  threatened  with 
some  dangerous  ailment  requiring  his  personal  ministra 
tions.  He  had  announced  his  intention  of  staying  right 
there  until  that  horse  was  "up  an'  doin'  again."  At  that 
minute  he  was  seated  on  a  half  bushel  measure  as  on  a 
throne  from  which  he  was  giving  his  orders,  and  all  the 
young  niggars  were  fairly  flying  to  execute  them. 

"It  is  no  use,  Gertrude,"  said  Mrs.  Nesbitt,  with  a  sigh  ; 
"as  soon  as  I  saw  that  vest  and  your  grandfather's  coat  with 
the  brass  buttons,  I  knew  Nelse  had  come  to  stay  a  spell,  and 
stay  he  will  in  spite  of  us." 

Which  statement  gave  the  man  from  Dublin  another  side 
light  on  the  race  question! 

One  of  the  servants  announced  a  canoe  in  sight,  coming 
from  up  the  river,  and  anticipating  a  probable  addition  to 
their  visitors,  Delaven  escaped  by  a  side  door,  until  the 
greetings  were  over,  and  walking  aimlessly  along  a  little 
path  back  from  the  river,  found  it  ended  at  a  group  of  pines 
surrounded  by  an  iron  railing,  enclosing,  also,  the  high, 
11 


158  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

square  granite  and  marble  abodes  of  the  dead.  It  was  here 
Nelse  had  pointed  when  telling  of  Tom  Loring's  sudden 
death  and  burial. 

He  opened  the  gate,  and  as  he  did  so  noticed  a  woman 
at  the  other  side  of  the  enclosure.  Remembering  how  in 
tensely  superstitious  the  colored  folks  were  said  to  be,  he 
wondered  at  one  of  them  coming  alone  into  the  grove  so 
nearly  darkened  by  the  dense  covering  of  pine,  and  with 
only  the  ghostly  white  of  the  tombs  surrounding  her. 

He  halted  and  stood  silent  beside  a  tree  until  she  arose 
and  turned  towards  the  gate,  then  he  could  see  plainly  the 
clear,  delicate  profile  of  the  silent  Margeret.  Of  all  the  peo 
ple  he  had  met  in  this  new  country,  this  quiet,  pale  woman 
puzzled  him  most.  She  seemed  to  compel  an  atmosphere  of 
silence,  for  no  one  spoke  of  her.  She  moved  about  like  a 
shadow  in  the  house,  but  she  moved  to  some  purpose,  for 
she  was  a  most  efficient  housekeeper,  even  the  pickaninnies 
from  the  quarters — saucy  and  mischievous  enough  with  any 
one  else — were  subdued  when  Margeret  spoke. 

After  she  had  passed  out  of  the  gate  he  went  over  where 
he  had  seen  her  first.  Two  tombs  were  side  by  side,  and  of 
the  same  pattern ;  a  freshly  plucked  flower  lay  on  one.  He 
read  the  name  beneath  the  flower ;  it  was,  Thomas  Loring,  in 
the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age ;  the  other  tomb  was  that  of  his 
wife,  who  had  died  seven  years  earlier. 

But  it  was  on  Tom  Loririg's  tomb  the  blossom  had  been 
laid. 

Was  it  merely  an  accident  that  it  was  the  marble  on  which 
the  fragrant  bit  of  red  had  been  let  fall  ?  or — 

He  walked  slowly  back  to  the  house,  feeling  that  he  had 
touched  on  some  story,  more  strange  than  any  Evilena  had 
asked  him  to  listen  to  of  the  old  days,  and  this  one  was  vital, 
human,  fascinating. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  159 

He  wondered  who  she  was,  yet  felt  a  reluctance  to  ask. 
To  him  she  appeared  a  white  woman.  Yet  an  intangible 
something  in  Miss  Loring's  manner  to  her  made  him  doubt. 
He  remembered  hearing  Matthew  Loring  on  the  voyage 
complain  many  times  that  Margeret  would  have  arranged 
things  for  his  comfort  with  more  foresight  than  was  shown 
by  his  attendants,  but  when  he  had  reached  Loringwood, 
and  Margeret  gave  silent,  conscientious  care  to  his  wants, 
there  was  never  a  word  of  praise  given  her.  He — Delaven 
— felt  as  if  he  was  the  only  one  there  who  appreciated  her 
ministrations  ;  the  others  took  them  as  a  matter  of  course. 

He  saw  old  Nelse  hitching  along,  with  his  queer  little 
walk,  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  stables.  He  mo 
tioned  to  him,  and  seated  himself  on  a  circular  bench,  backed 
by  a  great,  live  oak,  and  facing  the  river.  Nelse  proved  that 
his  sight  was  good  despite  his  years,  for  he  hastened  his 
irregular  shuffle  and  drew  near,  cap  in  hand. 

"Did  the  canoe  from  up  the  river  bring  visitors?"  asked 
Delaven,  producing  one  cigar  which  he  lighted,  and  another 
which  he  presented  to  the  old  man,  who  received  it  with 
every  evidence  of  delight. 

"I  can't  even  so  much  as  recollect  when  I  done  put  my 
hands  on  one  o'  these  real  Cubas ;  I  thank  yo'  kindly,  sah. 
We  all  raise  our  own  patches  o'  tobacco,  and  smoke  it  in 
pipes  dry,  so !  an'  in  course  by  that-a-way  we  'bleeged  to 
'spence  with  the  julictious  flavor  o'  the  Cubas.  No,  sah ; 
ain't  no  visitors;  just  Mrs.  McVeigh's  man,  Pluto,  done 
fetched  some  letters  and  Chloe — Chloe's  cook,  heah — she 
tell  me  she  reckon  Miss  Gertrude  try  get  Mahstah  Matt  to 
go  up  there  fo'  good  'fore  long,  fo'  Mrs.  McVeigh,  she 
comen'  home  from  Mobile  right  away,  now ;  done  sent  word. 
An'  Miss  Lena,  she  jest  in  a  jubilee  ovah  the  letter,  fo'  her 
rna  gwine  fotch  home  some  great  quality  folks  a  visiten'. 


160  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Judge  Clarkson,  he  plan  to  start  in  the  mawnen'  for  Savanna, 
he  gwine  meet  'em  there." 

"And  in  the  meantime  we  can  enjoy  our  tobacco ;  sit 
down.  I've  been  so  much  interested  in  your  stories  of  long 
ago  that  I  want  to  ask  you  about  one  of  the  present  time." 

The  smile  of  Nelse  broadened.  He  felt  he  was  appre 
ciated  by  Miss  Gertrude's  guests,  even  though  Miss  Ger 
trude  herself  was  not  particularly  cordial.  He  squatted  on 
the  grass  and  waited  while  Delaven  took  two  or  three  puffs 
at  his  cigar  before  speaking  again. 

"Now,  in  the  first  place,  if  there  is  any  objection  to  an 
swering  my  question,  I  expect  you  to  tell  me  so ;  you  under 
stand  ?"  Nelse  nodded  solemnly,  and  Delaven  continued : 

"I  have  one  of  the  best  nurses  here  that  it  has  ever  been 
my  luck  to  meet.  You  spoke  of  her  today  as  in  someway 
deprived  of  her  senses  for  a  long  time.  I  can't  quite  under 
stand  that,  for  she  appears  very  intelligent.  I  should  like 
to  know  what  you  meant." 

"I  reckon  o'  course  the  pussen  to  who  you  pintedly  make 
reference  is  Retta,"  said  the  old  man,  after  a  pause. 

"You  are  the  only  one  I've  heard  call  her  that — the  rest 
call  her  Margeret.'' 

"Humph — yes,  sah  ;  that  Mahstah  Matt's  doens,  I  reckon ! 
not  but  what  Marg'ret  alles  was  her  real  sure-'nough  name, 
but  way  back,  when  Mahstah  Tom  was  a  liven',  no  one  evah 
heard  tell  o'  her  been'  called  any  name  but  Retta ;  an'  seem 
like  it  suit  her  them  days,  but  don't  quite  suit  her  now  so 
well." 

Delaven  made  no  reply,  and  after  another  thoughtful 
pause,  the  old  man  continued : 

"No,  sah ;  I've  been  thinken'  it  ovah  middlen'  careful,  an' 
I  can't  see — considerin'  as  yo's  a  doctah,  an'  a  'special  friend 
o'  the  family — why  I  ain't  free  to  tell  you  Retta's  story  clean 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  161 

through ;  an'  seen'  as  yo'  have  to  put  a  lot  o'  'pendance  on 
her  'bout  carryen'  out  you  ordahs  fo'  Mahstah  Matt,  seems 
to  me  like  a  bounden'  duty  fo'  some  one  to  tell  yo',  fo'  theah 
was  five  yeahs — yes — six  of  'em,  when  Retta  wasn't  a  'nigh 
this  plantation  at  all.  She  was  stark,  raven,  crazy — danger 
ous  crazy — an'  had  to  be  took  away  to  some  'sylum  place ; 
we  all  nevah  knew  where ;  but  when  she  did  come  back  she 
was  jest  what  you  see — jest  the  ghost  of  a  woman,  sensible 
'nough,  seem  like,  but  I  mind  the  time  when  she  try  to  kill 
herself  an'  her  chile,  an'  how  we  to  know  that  fit  nevah  find 
her  again  ?" 

"She— killed  her  child?" 

"Oh,  no,  sah ;  we  all  took  the  baby ;  she  wan't  but  five  yeah 
ole,  from  her,  an'  got  the  knife  out  o'  her  hands ;  no,  no  one 
got  hurt.  But  I  reckon  I  better  go  'way  back  an'  tell  yo' 
the  reason." 

"Very  well ;  I  was  wondering  if  she  was  really  a  colored 
person,"  remarked  Delaven. 

"Retta's  an  octoroon,  mahstah,"  said  the  old  man,  with 
a  certain  solemnity  of  tone.  "I  doiie  heard  old  Mahstah 
Jean  Larue  swear  that  if  folks  are  reckoned  as  horses  are, 
Retta'd  be  counted  a  thoroughbred,  'cause  far  back  as  they 
can  count  theah  wan't  no  scrub  stock  in  her  pedigree. 

"Long  'bout  hundred  yeahs  ago  folks  come  in  colony 
fashion  from  some  islands  'way  on  other  side  the  sea.  They 
got  plantations  in  Florida,  an'  Mahs  Duke  he  knew  some  o' 
them  well.  I  only  rec'lect  hearen'  one  o'  the  names  they 
was  called — an'  mighty  hard  some  o'  them  was  to  say ! — but 
the  one  I  mind  was  Andros,  or  Ambrose  Lacaris,  an'  he  was 
a  Greek  gentleman  ;  an' — so  it  was  said — Retta  was  his  chile  ; 
his  nat'ral  daughter,  as  Mahs  Larue  call  it,  an'  she  was  raised 
in  his  home  jest  like  as  ef  she  gwine  to  be  mistress  some 
day." 


162  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Delaven's  cigar  was  forgotten,  and  its  light  gone  out. 
The  pedigree  was  more  interesting  than  he  had  expected. 
A  Greek !  All  the  beauty  of  the  ancient  world  had  come 
from  those  islands  across  the  sea.  The  romances,  the 
poems,  the  tragedies!  and  here  was  one  living  through  a 
tragedy  of  today ;  that  flower  on  the  tomb  under  the  pines — 
it  suggested  so  much,  no*v  that  he  heard  what  she  was. 

"Mahs  Lacaris,  from  what  I  could  heah,  was  much  the 
turn  o'  my  Mahs  Duke,  but  'thout  Mahs  Duke's  money  to 
back  him ;  an'  one  day  all  his  business  'rangements,  they  go 
smash !  an'  sheriff  come  take  all  his  Ian'  and  niggahs  fo' 
some  'surance  he'd  gone  fo'  some  one.  Well,  sah,  they  say 
he  most  went  'stracted  on  head  o'  that  smash  up  ;  an'  'special 
when  he  found  they  took  stock  o'  Retta,  just  like  any  o'  the 
field  hands.  But  theah  wan't  no  help  fo'  it,  'cause  Retta's 
mammy  was  a  quadroon  gal ;  jest  made  a  pet  o'  the  chile. 
an'  was  so  easy  goen'  he  nevah  took  a  thought  that  any 
thing  would  ever  change  his  way  o'  liven'. 

"Mahs  Tom,  he  jes'  got  married  to  Miss  Leo  Masterson 
an'  took  her  down  Florida  fo'  wedden'  trip ;  that  how  he 
come  to  be  theah  when  all  Mahs  Lacaris'  belongings  was 
put  up  fo'  sale.  Seem  like  Mahs  Lacaris  had  hope  he  could 
get  mo'  money  back  in  his  own  country,  an'  he  was  all 
planned  to  start,  an'  he  beg  Mahs  Tom  to  buy  his  little  Retta 
an'  keep  her  safe  till  he  come  back. 

"Now,  Mahs  Tom  was  powerful  good-hearted — jest  like 
his  daddy.  So  he  totes  the  chile  home,  an'  I  know  Hester 
(Miss  Leo's  maid)  was  ragen'  mad  about  it,  'cause  she  had 
to  wait  on  her  the  whole  enduren'  trip  home,  fo'  seem  like 
that  chile  nevah  had  been  taught  to  wait  on  herself. 

"Well,  sah,  Massa  Lacaris,  he  nevah  did  come  back ;  that 
ship  he  went  in  nevah  was  heard  tell  of  again  from  that  day 
to  this,  an'  theah  wan't  nothin'  fo'  Mahs  Tom  to  do  but  jest 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  163 

keep  her.  He  did  talk  about  sendin'  her  'way  to  some 
school,  fo'  she  mighty  peart  with  books,  an'  then  given'  her 
a  chance  to  buy  herself  if  so  be  she  wanted  to.  But  Miss 
Leo  object  to  that,  flat  foot  down ;  she  hadn't  no  sort  o'  use 
fo'  'ristocrat  book-learned  niggahs. 

"Hester,  she  heard  Miss  Leo  say  them  words,  an'  was 
mighty  glad  to  tattle  'em !  Hester — she  was  Maryland 
stock,  same  as  Cynthy.  Well,  sah,  they  worried  along  fo' 
'bout  a  yeah  not  deciden'  jest  what  to  do  with  that  young 
stray,  then  Miss  Gertrude  she  come  to  town  an'  it  did'n 
take  no  time  to  fine  out  what  to  do  with  her,  then ! 

"Miss  Gertrude  wan't  no  'special  stout  chile,  an'  took  a 
heap  o'  care  an'  pamperin'  an'  when  none  o'  the  othahs 
could  do  a  trick  with  her,  Retta  would  jest  walk  in,  take  her 
in  her  arms,  an'  the  wah  was  ended  fo'  that  time !  Fust  time 
Mahs  Tom  see  that  performance  he  laugh  hearty,  an'  then  he 
say,  'Retta,  we  jest  find  out  what  we  do  need  you  fo' ;  yo' 
gwine  to  be  installed  as  governess  at  Lorinwood  from  this 
time  on.'  An'  Retta  she  was  powerful  pleased  an'  so  happy, 
she  alles  a  laughen'  an'  her  eyes  a  shinen'. 

"Long  'bout  a  yeah  after  that,  it  was,  when  Miss  Leo  die. 
Mahs  Tom,  he  went  way  then  fo'  a  long  spell,  cause  the 
place  too  lonesome,  an'  when  he  come  back,  Retta,  she 
ovah  seventeen,  an'  she  jest  manage  the  whole  house  fine  as 
she  manage  that  baby,  an'  all  the  quality  folks  what  come  an' 
go  praise  her  mightily  an'  talk  'bout  how  peart  she  was. 

"Then  Mahs  Matt,  he  come  up  from  Orleans,  whah  he 
been  cutten'  a  wide  swath,  if  all  folks  told  true,  an'  fust  thing 
his  eyes  caught  was  that  gal  Retta,  an'  he  up  an'  tole  Mahs 
Tom  what  a  fool  he  was  not  to  sell  her  down  in  Orleans 
whah  she'd  fetch  mo'  money  than  would  buy  six  nuss  gals 
or  housekeepers. 


164  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Mahs  Tom  cussed  at  him  powerful  wicked  when  he  say 
that !  I  heard  that  my  own  self — it  was  down  at  the  stable 
an'  I  was  jest  putten'  a  saddle  on  fo'  Mahs  Tom,  an'  then 
right  in  the  middle  o'  his  cussin'  an'  callen'  names  he  stopped 
short  off  an'  says — says  he:  'Don't  you  evah  open  youah 
mouth  to  me  'bout  that  again  so  long  as  yo'  live.  If  Retta 
takes  care  o'  my  Gertrude  till  she  ten  yeahs  old,  I  made  up 
my  mine  to  give  her  freedom  if  she  want  it,  that  gal  wan't 
bought  for  no  slave  an'  she  ain't  gwine  to  be  one  heah — yo' 
un'stan'?  You  un'stan'  if  you  got  any  notion  o'  stayen'  at 
Lorinwood!'  An'  then  with  some  more  mighty  uncivil 
sayen's  he  got  in  the  saddle  an'  rode  like  Jehu,  an'  I  don' 
reckon  Mahs  Matt  evah  did  make  mention  of  it  again,  fo' 
they  got  'long  all  good  'nough  so  long  as  he  stayed. 

"Well,  sah,  haven'  to  take  her  part  a-way  made  him  think 
mo'  'bout  the  gal  I  reckon ;  anyway  he  say  plain  to  more'n 
one  that  he  sure  gwine  give  Retta  her  freedom. 

"He  gwine  do  it  jest  aftah  her  chile  was  bawn,  then  theah 
was  some  law  fusses  raised  'bout  that  time  consarnnen' 
Mahstahs  freen'  slaves,  an'  Mahs  Matt  was  theah  then,  an' 
he  not  say  a  word  again  freen'  her,  only  he  say,  'wait  a  spell, 
Tom.' 

"Retta,  she  wan't  caren'  then ;  she  was  young  an'  happy 
all  day  long  while  her  chile  that  was  jest  as  white  as  Miss 
Gertrude  dar  be. 

"Things  went  on  that-a-way  five  yeahs,  her  chile  was  five 
yeahs  ole  when  he  start  fo'  a  business  visit  down  to  Charles 
ton,  an'  he  say  fo'  he  start  that  Retta  gwine  have  her  freedom 
papers  fo'  Christmas  gift.  Well,  sah,  he  done  been  gone  two 
weeks  in  Charleston  when  he  start  home,  an'  then  Mahs 
Larue  persuade  him  to  stay  ovah  night  at  his  plantation  fo' 
a  fox  hunt  in  the  mawnen'.  Mahs  Matt  was  theah,  an'  some 
othah  friends,  so  he  staid  ovah  an'  next  we  heard  Mahs  Matt 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  165 

sent  word  Mahs  Tom  killed,  an'  we  all  was  to  be  ready  to 
see  aftah  the  relations  an'  othah  quality  folks  who  boun'  to 
come  to  the  funeral. 

"An'  now,  sah,  you  un'stan'  what  sort  o'  shock  it  was 
made  Retta  lose  her  mind  that  time.  She  fainted  dead  away 
when  she  heard  it,  but  then  she  kind  o'  pulled  herself  to- 
gethah,  as  a  horse  will  for  a  spurt,  an'  she  looked  aftah  the 
company  an'  took  Mahs  Matt's  orders  'bout  'rangements, 
but  we  all  most  scared  at  the  way  she  look — jest  a  watching 
Mahs  Matt  constant,  beggen'  him  with  her  eyes  to  tell  her 
'bout  them  freedom  papers,  but  seems  like  he  didn't  un'stan', 
an'  when  she  ask  him  right  out,  right  'long  side  o'  dead 
Mahs  Tom,  he  inform  her  he  nevah  heah  tell  'bout  them 
freedom  papers,  Mahs  Tom  not  tole  him  'bout  them,  so  she 
b'long  to  the  'state  o'  Loring  jest  same  as  she  did  afore,  only 
now  Miss  Gertrude  owned  her  'stead  o'  Mahs  Tom. 

"That  when  she  tried  to  kill  herself,  an'  try  to  kill  the 
chile ;  didn't  know  anybody,  she  didn't,  I  tell  yo'  it  make  a 
terrible  'miration  'mongst  the  quality  folks,  an'  I  b'lieve  in 
my  soul  Mahs  Matt  would  a  killed  her  if  he  dared,  fo'  it 
made  all  the  folks  un'stan'  jest  what  he  would  'a  tried  to  keep 
them  from. 

"An'  that,  sah,  is  the  whole  'count  o'  the  reason  leaden' 
up  to  the  sickness  whah  she  lost  her  mine.  We  all  sutten 
sure  Mahs  Matt  sell  her  quick  if  evah  her  senses  done  come 
back,  but  she  really  an'  truly  b'long  to  Miss  Gertrude,  an' 
Miss  Gertrude,  she  couldn't  see  no  good  reason  to  let  go 
the  best  housekeeper  on  the  plantation,  an'  that  how  come 
she  come  to  stay  when  she  fetched  back  cured  by  them 
doctors.  She  ain't  nevah  made  a  mite  o'  trouble — jest  alles 
same  as  yo'  see  her,  but  o'  course  yo'  the  best  judge  o'  how 
far  to  trust  her  'bout  special  medicine  an'  sech." 


166  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Delaven,  thoughtfully.  He  arose  and 
walked  back  and  forth  several  times.  Until  now  he  had 
only  come  in  contact  with  the  pleasant  pastoral  side  of  life, 
given  added  interest  because,  just  now,  all  its  peace  was  en 
circled  by  war;  but  it  zvas  peace  for  all  that — peace  in 
an  eminently  Christian  land,  a  land  of  homes  and  churchly 
environment,  and  made  picturesque  by  the  grotesque  fea 
tures  and  humor  of  the  dark  exiles.  He  had  only  laughed 
with  them  until  now  and  marveled  at  the  gaiety  of  the  troops 
singing  in  the  rice  fields,  and  suddenly  another  window  had 
been  opened  and  through  it  one  caught  glimpses  of  trage 
dies. 

"And  the  poor  woman's  child  ?"  he  asked,  after  a  little. 

"Mans  Matt  done  send  her  down  to  Mahs  Larue's  Georgy 
plantation,  an'  we  all  nevah  seen  her  no  mo'.  Mahs  Larue 
done  sold  that  Georgy  plantation  'bout  five  yeahs  back  an' 
move  up  fo'  good  on  one  his  wife  own  up  heah.  An'  little 
while  back  I  hear  tell  they  gwine  sell  it,  too,  an'  flit  way 
cross  to  Mexico  somewhah.  This  heah  war  jest  broke  them 
up  a'ready." 

"And  the  child  was  sold  ? — do  you  mean  that  ?" 

"Deed  we  all  nevah  got  a  sure  story  o'  what  come  o'  that 
baby ;  only  when  Retta  come  back  Mahs  Matt  tell  her  little 
Rhoda  dead  long  time  ago — dead  down  in  Georgy,  an'  no 
one  evah  heah  her  ask  a  word  from  that  day  to  this.  But  one 
Larue's  niggahs  tole  me" — and  the  voice  and  manner  of 
Nelse  took  on  a  grotesquely  impressive  air — "they  done  raise 
a  mighty  handsome  chile  'bout  that  time  what  was  called 
Rhoda,  an'  she  went  to  ferren  parts  with  Mahs  Larue  an' 
his  family  an'  didn't  nevah  come  back,  no  mo',  an'  Mahs 
Matt  raise  some  sort  o'  big  row  with  Mahs  Jean  Larue  ovah 
that  gal,  an'  they  nevah  was  friends  no  mo'.  To  be  suah 
maybe  that  niggah  lied — /  don't  know.  But  he  let  on  as  how 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  167 

Mars  Larue  say  that  gal  gwine  to  fetch  a  fancy  piice  some 
day,  an'  I  thought  right  off  how  Mahs  Matt  said  Retta  bottn' 
to  fetch  a  fancy  price  in  Orleans ;  an'  taken'  it  all  roun'  I 
reckoned  it  jest  as  well  Retta  keep  on  thinken'  that  chile 
died." 

Delaven  agreed.  From  the  house  he  could  hear  the  ladies 
talking,  and  Evilena's  laugh  sang  out  clear  as  a  bird's  song. 
He  wondered  if  they  also  knew  the  story  of  the  silent  deft- 
handed  bondwoman  ? — but  concluded  it  was  scarcely  likely. 
Mrs.  Nesbitt  might  know  something  of  it,  but  who  could 
tell  Tom  Loring's  daughter? — and  Evilena,  of  course,  was 
too  much  of  a  child. 

"I  should  like  to  see  the  picture  you  spoke  of,"  he  said  at 
last,  "the  small  one  the  painter  left." 

"I  reckon  that  picture  done  sent  away  with  little  Rhoda's 
things.  ,  I  ain't  nevah  heard  tell  of  it  since  that  time.  But 
it  don't  look  a  mite  like  her  now.  All  the  red  gone  out  o' 
her  cheeks  an'  lips,  all  the  shine  out  o'  her  eyes,  an'  her  long 
brown  hair  has  mo'  white  than  brown  in  it  these  days.  This 
woman  Marg'ret  ain't  Retta ;  they  jest  as  yo'  might  say  two 
different  women ;"  then,  after  a  pause,  "any  othah  thing  you 
want  ask  me,  sah  ?  I  see  Jedge  Clarkson  comen'  this  way." 

"No,  that  is  all ;  thank  you,  old  fellow." 

He  left  Nelse  ducking  his  head  and  fingering  a  new  coin, 
while  he  sauntered  to  meet  the  Judge. 

"How  much  he  give  you,  Uncle  Nelse?"  asked  a  guarded 
voice  back  of  the  old  man,  and  he  nearly  fell  over  backwards 
in  his  fright.  A  large,  middle-aged  colored  man  arose  from 
the  tall  grass,  where  he  has  been  hidden  under  the  bank. 

"Wha — what  you  mean — yo'  Pluto?  What  fo'  you  hide 
theah  an'  listen  ?" 

"I  wan't  hiden',"  replied  the  man,  good  naturedly.  "I 
jest  lay  to  go  sleep  in  the  shade.  Yo'  come  'long  an'  talk — 


168  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

talk  so  I  couldn't  help  hear  it  all,"  and  he  smiled  shrewdly. 
"I  alles  was  curious  to  know  the  true  way  'bout  that  Mar- 
g'ret — I  reckon  there  was  a  heap  that  wan't  told  to  neigh 
bors.  An'  reason  why  I  ask  you  how  much  he  give  you  fo' 
the  story  is  'cause  I  got  that  picture  you  tole  'bout.  I  mar 
ried  Mahs  Larue's  Rosa  what  come  from  Georgy  with  them. 
She  been  daid  ovah  a  yeah  now,  but  it's  some  whar  'mongst 
her  b'longings.  Reckon  that  strange  gentleman  give  me 
dollar  for  it  ? — the  frame  is  mighty  pretty — what  you  think  ?" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"Do  tell  me  every  blessed  thing  about  her — a  real  Mar 
quise — I  love  titles ;"  and  Evilena  clasped  her  hands  rap 
turously. 

"Do  you,  now?  Faith,  then  I'm  glad  I  secured  mine  be 
fore  I  came  over,"  and  the  laughing  Irish  eyes  met  hers 
quizzically. 

"Oh,  I  never  meant  titles  people  earn  themselves,  Mr. 
Doctor,  for—" 

"Then  that  puts  the  Judge  and  Col.  Kenneth  and  myself 
on  the  outside  of  your  fence,  does  it?  Arrah  now!  I'll  be 
looking  up  my  pedigree  in  hopes  of  unearthing  a  king — 
every  true  Irishman  has  a  traditional  chance  of  being  the 
descendant  of  rulers  who  ran  barefoot,  and  carried  a  club 
to  teach  the  court  etiquette." 

She  made  a  mutinous  little  grimace  and  refused  to  dis 
cuss  his  probable  ancestors. 

"Does  not  the  presence  of  a  French  Marquise  show  how 
Europe  sides  with  us?"  she  demanded,  triumphantly. 
"Quantities  of  noblemen  have  been  the  guests  of  the  South 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  169 

lately,  and  isn't  General  Wolseley,  the  most  brilliant  officer 
of  the  British  Army,  with  our  General  Lee  now  ?  I  reckon 
all  that  shows  how  we  are  estimated.  And  now  the  ladies 
of  title  are  coming  over.  Oh,  tell  me  all  about  her;  is  she 
very  grand,  very  pretty?" 

"Grand  enough  for  a  queen  over  your  new  monarchy," 
replied  Delaven,  who  derived  considerable  enjoyment  from 
teasing  the  girl  about  affairs  political — "and  pretty?  No, 
she's  not  that ;  she's  just  Beauty's  self,  entirely." 

"And  you  knew  her  well  in  Paris?"  asked  Evilena,  with 
a  hesitating  suspicion  as  to  why  he  had  not  announced  such 
a  wonderful  acquaintance  before — this  woman  who  was 
Beauty's  self,  and  a  widow.  She  wondered  if  she  had  ap 
peared  crude  compared  with  those  grand  dames  he  had 
known  and  forgotten  to  mention. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  knew  her  while  the  old  Marquise  was  living, 
that  was  when  your  mother  and  Col.  Kenneth  met  her,  but 
afterwards  she  took  to  travel  for  a  change,  and  has  evidently 
taken  your  South  on  her  way.  It  will  be  happiness  to  see 
her  again." 

"And  brother  Ken  knew  her,  too?"  asked  the  girl,  with 
wide-open  eyes  ;  "and  he  never  mentioned  her,  either — well !" 

"The  rascal ! — to  deprive  you  of  an  account  of  all  the 
lovely  ladies  he  met !  But  you  were  at  school  when  they  re 
turned,  were  you  not  ? — and  Ken  started  off  hot  foot  for  the 
West  and  Indian  fighting,  so  you  see  there  were  excuses." 

"And  Kenneth  does  not  know  you  are  here  still,  and  will 
not  know  the  beautiful  Marquise  is  here.  Won't  he  be  sur 
prised  to  see  you  all  ?" 

"I  doubt  if  I  cause  him  such  a  shock,"  decided  Delaven; 
"when  he  gets  sight  of  Judithe,  Marquise  de  Caron,  he  will 
naturally  forget  at  once  whether  I  am  in  America  or  Ire 
land." 


170  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Indeed,  then,  I  never  knew  Kenneth  to  slight  a  friend," 
said  the  girl,  indignantly. 

"But  maybe  you  never  saw  him  face  to  face  with  such  a 
temptation  to  make  a  man  forget  the  universe." 

"Sh — h !"  she  whispered,  softly.  Gertrude  had  come  out 
on  the  veranda  looking  for  the  Judge.  Seeing  him  down 
at  the  landing  she  walked  leisurely  in  that  direction. 

"You  do  say  such  wild,  extravagant  things,"  continued 
Evilena,  "that  I  just  had  to  stop  you  until  Gertrude  was  out 
of  hearing.  I  suppose  you  know  she  and  Kenneth  are 
paired  off  for  matrimony." 

"Are  they,  now  ?  Well,  he's  a  lucky  fellow ;  when  are 
we  to  dance  at  the  wedding?" 

"Oh,  they  never  tell  me  anything  about  serious  things 
like  that,"  complained  Evilena.  "There's  Aunt  Sajane ;  she 
can  tell  us,  if  any  one  can ;  everybody  confides  love  affairs  to 
her." 

"Do  they,  now?    Might  I  ask  how  you  know?" 

"Yes,  sir ;  you  may  ask !"  Then  she  dropped  that  sub 
ject  and  returned  to  the  first  one.  "Aunt  Sajane,  when  do 
you  reckon  we  can  dance  at  Kenneth's  wedding — his  and 
Gertrude's  ?  Doctor  Delaven  and  I  want  to  dance." 

"Evilena — honey!"  murmured  Aunt  Sajane,  chidingly, 
the  more  so  as  Matthew  Loring  had  just  crept  slowly  out 
with  the  help  of  his  cane,  and  a  negro  boy.  His  alert  ex 
pression  betrayed  that  he  had  overheard  the  question. 

"You  know,"  she  continued,  "folks  have  lots  to  think  of 
these  days  without  wedding  dances,  and  it  isn't  fair  to  Ger 
trude  to  discuss  it,  for  /  don't  know  that  there  really  has 
been  any  settled  engagement ;  only  it  would  seem  like  a 
perfect  match  and  both  families  seem  to  favor  it."  She 
glanced  inquiringly  at  Loring,  who  nodded  his  head  "de 
cidedly. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  171 

"Of  course,  of  course,  a  very  sensible  arrangement. 
They've  always  been  friends  and  it's  been  as  good  as  settled 
ever  since  they  were  children." 

"Settled  by  the  families  ?"  asked  Delaven. 

"Exactly — a  good  old  custom  that  is  ignored  too  often 
these  days,"  said  Mr.  Loring,  promptly.  "Who  is  so  fit  to 
decide  such  things  for  children  as  their  parents  and  guar 
dians  ?  That  boy's  father  and  I  talked  over  this  affair  be 
fore  the  children  ever  knew  each  other.  Of  course  he 
laughed  over  the  question  at  the  time,  but  when  he  died 
and  suggested  me  as  the  boy's  guardian,  I  knew  he  thought 
well  of  it  and  depended  on  me,  and  it  will  come  off  right  as 
soon  as  this  war  is  over — all  right." 

"A  very  good  method  for  this  country  of  the  old  French 
cavaliers,"  remarked  Delaven,  in  a  low  tone,  to  the  girl, 
"but  the  lads  and  lassies  of  Ireland  have  to  my  mind  found 
a  better." 

Evilena  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"Well,  don't  you  mean  to  tell  me  what  it  is?"  she  asked, 
as  he  appeared  to  have  dropped  the  subject.  He  laughed 
at  the  aggrieved  tone  she  assumed. 

"Whist !  There  are  mystical  rites  due  to  the  telling,  and 
it  goes  for  nothing  when  told  in  a  crowd." 

"You  have  got  clear  away  from  Kenneth,"  she  reminded 
him,  hastily.  "Did  you  mean  that  he  was — well,  in  love  with 
this  magnificent  Marquise?" 

Low  as  she  tried  to  speak,  the  words  reached  Loring,  who 
listened,  and  Delaven,  glancing  across,  perceived  that  he 
listened. 

"In  love  with  the  Marquise?  Bless  your  heart,  we  were 
all  of  course." 

"But  my  brother?"  insisted  Evilena. 


172  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Well,  now  he  might  have  been  the  one  exception — in 
fact  he  always  did  get  out  of  the  merely  social  affairs  when 
he  could,  over  there." 

"Showed  his  good  sense,"  decided  Loring,  emphatically. 
"I  don't  approve  of  young  people  running  about  Europe, 
learning  their  pernicious  habits  and  customs ;  I've  had  my 
fill  of  foreign  places  and  foreign  people." 

Mrs.  Nesbitt  opened  her  lips  with  a  shocked  expression 
of  protest,  and  as  promptly  closed  them,  realizing  the  use- 
lessness  of  it.  Evilena  laughed  outright  aud  directed  an  elo 
quent  glance  towards  the  only  foreigner. 

"Me,  is  it  ?"  he  asked,  doubtingly.  "Oh,  don't  you  believe 
it.  I've  been  here  so  long  I'm  near  a  Southerner  myself." 

"How  near?"  she  asked,  teasingly. 

"Well,  I  must  acknowledge  you  hold  me  at  arms  length 
in  spite  of  my  allegiance,"  he  returned,  and  in  the  laugh  of 
the  others,  Mr.  Loring's  tirade  against  foreigners  was  passed 
over. 

It  was  only  a  few  hours  since  Pluto  arrived  with  the  letter 
from  Mobile  telling  of  the  early  arrival  of  Mrs.  McVeigh 
and  her  guest.  Noting  that  the  letter  had  been  delayed  and 
that  the  ladies  might  even  now  be  in  Savannah,  Judge 
Clarkson  proposed  starting  at  once  to  meet  them,  but  was 
persuaded  to  wait  until  morning. 

Pluto  was  also  told  to  wait  over — an  invitation  gladly 
accepted,  as  visits  to  Loringwood  were  just  now  especially 
prized  by  the  neighboring  darkies,  for  the  two  runaways 
were  yet  subjects  of  gossip  and  speculation,  and  Uncle  Nelse 
scattered  opinions  in  the  quarters  on  the  absolute  foolishness 
in  taking  such  risks  for  freedom,  and  dire  prophesies  of  the 
repentance  to  follow. 

That  his  own  personal  feeling  did  not  carry  conviction 
to  his  listeners  was  evidenced  by  the  sullen  silence  of  many 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  173 

who  did  not  think  it  wise  to  contradict  him.  Pluto  was  the 
only  person  to  argue  with  him.  But  this  proved  to  be  the 
one  subject  on  which  Pluto  could  not  be  his  natural  good- 
natured  self.  His  big  black  eyes  held  threatening  gleams, 
rebellious  blood  throbbed  through  every  vein  of  his  dark 
body.  He  championed  the  cause  of  the  runaways ;  he 
knew  of  none  who  had  left  a  good  master ;  old  man  Master- 
son  was  unreasonable  as  Matthew  Loring ;  he  did  not  blame 
them  for  leaving  such  men. 

"I  got  good  a  mistress — good  a  master  as  is  in  all  Caro 
lina,"  he  stated,  bluntly,  "but  you  think  I  stay  here  to  work 
for  any  of  them  if  it  wan't  for  my  boy? — my  Rose's  baby? 
No,  I  wouldn't!  I'd  go  North,  too!  I'd  never  stop  till  I 
reached  the  men  who  fight  against  slave  states.  You  all 
know  what  keeps  me  here.  I'd  never  see  my  boy  again.  I 
done  paid  eighteen  dollars  towards  Rose's  freedom  when  she 
died.  Then  I  ask  Mr.  Jean  Larue  if  he  wouldn't  let  that  go 
on  the  baby.  He  said  yes,  right  off,  an'  told  me  I  could  get 
him  for  hundred  fifty  dollars ;  that  why  I  work  'long  like  I 
do,  an'  let  the  other  men  fight  fo'  freedom  But  I  ain't  con 
tented  so  long  as  any  man  can  sell  me  an'  my  child." 

None  of  the  other  blacks  made  any  verbal  comment  on 
his  feelings  or  opinions,  but  old  Nelse  easily  saw  that  Pluto's 
ideas  outweighed  his  own  with  them. 

"I  un'stan'  you  to  say  Mahs  Jean  Larue  promise  he  keep 
yo'  boy  till  such  time  as  the  money  is  raised?"  he  asked, 
cautiously. 

"That's  the  way  it  was,"  assented  Pluto.  "I  ain't  been  to 
see  him — little  Zekal — for  nigh  on  two  months  now.  I'm 
goen',  sure,  soon  as  Mrs.  McVeigh  come  home  an'  get  set 
tled.  It's  quite  a  jaunt  from  our  place  to  Mahs  Larue's — 
thirty  good  mile." 

12 


174  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Aunt  Chloe  poured  him  out  some  more  rye  and  corn-meal 
coffee  and  insisted  on  him  having  more  sweet  potato  pie. 
She  swept  an  admonishing  glance  towards  the  others  as 
she  did  so.  "I  did  heah  some  time  ago  one  o'  the  Lame's 
gwine  way  down  to  the  Mexico  country,"  she  remarked, 
carelessly.  ""I  don't  -reckon  though  it  is  this  special  Larue. 
I  mind  they  did  have  such  a  monstrous  flock  o'  them  Larue 
boys  long  time  back  ;  some  got  killed  in  this  heah  war  what's 
maken'  trouble  all  roun'.  .  How  much  you  got  paid  on  yo' 
little  boy,  Pluto  ?" 

"Most  thirty  dollars  by  time  I  make  next  trip  over.  Takes 
mighty  long  time  to  save  money  these  days,  quarters  scarcer 
than  dollars  use  to  be." 

His  entertainers  agreed  with  him ;  then  the  little  maid 
Raquel  entered  to  say  Pluto  was  wanted  by  Miss  Sajane 
soon  as  his  lunch  was  over. 

And  as  he  walked  across  the  grounds  Evilena  pointed  him 
out  to  Delaven. 

"That  is  our  Pluto,"  she  said,  with  a  certain  note  of  pride 
in  her  tone ;  "three  generations  of  his  family  belonged  to  us. 
Mamma  can  always  .go  away  feeling  the  whole  plantation 
is  safe  so  long  as  Pluto  is  in  charge.  "We  never  do  have 
trouble  with  the  folks  at  the  quarters  as  Mr.  Loring  does. 
He  is  so  hard  on  them  I  wonder  they  don't  all  run  away ; 
it  would  be  hard  on  Gertrude,  though — lose  her  a  lot  of 
money.  Did  you  know  Loringwood  is  actually  offered  for 
sale  ?  Isn't  it  a  shame  ?  The  only  silver  lining  to  the  cloud 
is  that  then  Gertrude  will  have  to  move  to  The  Pines — I 
don't  mean  to  the  woods" — as  he  turned  a  questioning 
glance  on  her.  "I  mean  to  Gertrude's  plantation  joining 
ours.  It  is  a  lovely  place ;  used  to  belong  to  the  Master- 
son  tracts,  and  was  part  of  the  wedding  dowery  of  that 
Miss  Leo  Masterson  Uncle  Nelse  told  of — Gertrude's 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  175 

mother,  you  know.  It  is  not  grand  or  imposing  like  Lor- 
ingwood,  but  I  heard  the  Judge  say  that  place  alone  was 
enough  to  make  Gertrude  a  wealthy  woman,  and  the  love 
liest  thing  about  it  is  that  it  joins  our  plantation — lovely  for 
Gertrude  and  Kenneth,  I  mean.  Look  here,  Doctor  Dela- 
ven,  you  roused  my  curiosity  wonderfully  with  that  little 
remark  you  made  about  the  beautiful  Marquise;  tell  me 
true — were  they — did  Ken,  even  for  a  little  while,  fall  in 
love  with  her  ?" 

She  looked  so  roguishly  coaxing,  so  sure  she  had  stum 
bled  on  some  fragment  of  an  adventure,  and  so  alluringly 
confident  that  Delaven  must  tell  her  the  rest,  that  there  is 
no  telling  how  much  he  might  have  enlightened  her  if  Miss 
Loring  had  not  entered  the  room  at  that  moment  through 
a  door  nearest  the  window  where  they  stood. 

Her  face  was  serene  and  self  possessed  as  ever.  She 
smiled  and  addressed  some  careless  remark  to  them  as  she 
passed  through,  but  Delaven  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling 
that  she  had  overheard  that  question,  and  Evilena  was  too 
frightened  to  repeat  it. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  warm  summer  moon  wheeled  up  that  evening 
through  the  dusk,  odorous  with  the  wild  luxuriance  of  wood 
and  swamp  growths.  A  carriage  rolled  along  the  highway 
between  stretches  of  rice  lands  and  avenues  of  pines. 

In  the  west  red  and  yellow  showed  where  the  path  of 
the  sun  had  been  and  against  it  was  outlined  the  gables  of  an 
imposing  structure,  dark  against  the  sky. 


176  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"We  are  again  close  to  the  Salkahatchie,"  said  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  pointing  where  the  trees  marked  its  course,  "and 
across  there — see  that  roof,  Marquise  ? — that  is  Loringwood. 
If  the  folks  had  got  across  from  Charleston  we  would  stop 
there  long  enough  to  rest  and  have  a  bit  of  supper.  But 
the  road  winds  so  that  the  distance  is  longer  than  it  looks, 
and  we  are  too  near  home  to  stop  on  such  an  uncertainty. 
Gertrude's  note  from  Charleston  telling  of  their  safe  arrival 
could  say  nothing  definite  of  their  home  coming." 

"That,  no  doubt,  depends  on  the  invalid  relative,"  sug 
gested  her  guest;  "the  place  looks  very  beautiful  in  this 
dim  light ;  the  cedars  along  the  road  there  are  magnificent." 

"I  have  heard  they  are  nearly  two  hundred  years  old. 
Years  ago  it  was  the  great  show  place  of  the  country,  but 
two  generations  of  very  extravagant  sportsmen  did  much  to 
diminish  its  wealth — generous,  reckless  and  charming  men 
— but  they  planted  mortgages  side  by  side  with  their  rice 
fields.  Those  encumbrances  have,  I  fancy,  prevented  Ger 
trude  from  being  as  fond  of  the  place  as  most  girls  would 
be  of  so  fine  an  ancestral  home." 

"Possibly  she  lacks  the  gamester  blood  of  her  forefathers 
and  can  have  no  patience  with  their  lack  of  the  commercial 
instinct." 

"I  really  do  believe  that  is  just  it,"  said  Mrs.  McVeigh, 
"i  never  had  thought  of  it  in  that  way  myself,  but  Gertrude 
certainly  is  not  at  all  like  the  Lorings ;  she  is  entirely  of  her 
mother's  people,  and  they  are  credited  with  possessing  a 
great  deal  of  the  commercial  instinct.  I  can't  fancy  a  Mas- 
terson  gambling  away  a  penny.  They  are  much  more  sen 
sible  ;  they  invest." 

The  cedar  avenues  had  been  left  a  mile  behind,  and  they 
had  entered  again  the  pine  woods  where  even  the  moon's 
full  radiance  could  only  scatter  slender  lances  of  light.  The 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  177 

Marquise  leaned  back  with  half-shut  slumberous  eyes,  and 
confessed  she  was  pleased  that  it  would  be  later,  instead  of 
this  evening,  that  she  would  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  the 
master  and  mistress  of  Loringwood — the  drive  through  the 
great  stretches  of  pine  had  acted  as  a  soporific ;  no  society 
for  the  night  so  welcome  as  King  Morpheus. 

The  third  woman  in  the  carriage  silently  adjusted  a  cush 
ion  back  of  Madame's  head.  "Thank  you,  Louise,"  she 
said,  yawning  a  little.  "You  see  how  effectually  I  have  been 
mastered  by  the  much  remarked  languor  of  the  South.  It 
is  delightfully  restful.  I  cannot  imagine  any  one  ever  being 
in  a  hurry  in  this  land." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  and  pointed  across  the  field,  where 
some  men  were  just  then  running  after  a  couple  of  dogs 
who  barked  vociferously  in  short,  quick  yelps,  bespeaking 
a  hot  trail  before  them. 

"There  is  a  living  contradiction  of  your  idea,"  she  said; 
"the  Southerners  are  intensity  personified  when  the  game  is 
worth  it ;  the  game  may  be  a  fox  chase  or  a  flirtation,  a  love 
affair  or  a  duel,  and  our  men  require  no  urging  for  any  of 
those  pursuits." 

They  were  quite  close  to  the  men  now,  and  the  Marquise 
declared  they  were  a  perfect  addition  to  the  scene  of  moon 
lit  savannas  backed  by  the  masses  of  wood  now  near,  now 
far,  across  the  levels.  Two  of  them  had  reached  the  road 
when  the  carriage  wheels  attracted  attention  from  the  dogs, 
and  they  halted,  curious,  questioning. 

"Why,  it's  our  Pluto !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  McVeigh ;  "stop 
the  carriage.  Pluto,  what  in  the  world  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

Pluto  came  forward  smiling,  pleased. 

"Welcome  home,  Mrs.  McVeigh.  Fse  jest  over  Loring 
wood  on  errend  with  yo'  all  letters  to  Miss  Lena  an'  Miss 
Sajane.  Letters  was  stopped  long  time  on  the  road  some- 


178  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

way;  yo'  all  get  here  soon  most  as  they  did.  Judge  Clark- 
son — he  aimen'  to  go  meet  yo'  at  Savannah — start  in  the 
mawning  at  daybreak.  He  reckoned  yo'  all  jest  wait  there 
till  some  one  go  fo'  escort." 

"Evilena  is  at  Loringwood,  you  say?  Then  Miss  Loring 
and  her  uncle  have  got  over  from  Charleston  ?" 

"Yes,  indeedy ! — long  time  back,  more'n  a  week  now  since 
they  come.  Why,  how  come  you  not  hear  ? — they  done  sent 
yo'  word ;  I  know  Miss  Lena  wrote  you,  'cause  she  said  so. 
Yes'm,  the  folks  is  back,  an'  Miss  Sajane  an'  Judge  over 
there  this  minute ;  reckon  they'll  feel  mighty  sorry  yo'  all 
passed  the  gate." 

"Oh,  trat  the  letter  never  reached  me.  I  had  no  idea 
they  were  home,  and  it  is  too  far  to  go  back  I  suppose? 
How  far  are  we  from  the  house  now  ?" 

"Only  'bout  a  mile  straight  'cross  fields  like  we  come  after 
that  'possum,  but  it's  a  good  three  miles  by  the  road." 

"Well,  yott  present  my  compliments  and  explain  the  sit 
uation  to  Miss  Loring  and  the  Judge.  We  will  drive  on  to 
the  Terrace.  Say  I  hope  to  see  them  all  soon  as  they  can 
come.  Evilena  can  come  with  you  in  the  morning.  Tell 
Miss  Gertrude  I  shall  drive  over  soon  as  1  am  rested  a  little 
— and  Mr.  Loring,  "is  he  better  ?" 

"Heap  better — so  Miss  Gertrude  and  the  doctor  say.  He 
walks  roun'  some.  Miss  Gertrude  she  mightily  taken  with 
Dr.  Delaven's  cure — she  says  he  jest  saved  Mahs  Loring's 
life  over  there  in  France." 

"Dr.  Delaven !"  uttered  the  voice  of  the  Marquise,  in  soft 
surprise — "our  Dr.  Delaven?"  and  as  she  spoke  her  hand 
stole  out  and  touched  that  of  the  handsome  serving  woman 
she  called  Louise ;  "is  he  also  a  traveller  seeking  adventure 
in  your  South?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  179 

"Did  I  not  tell  you?"  asked  Mrs.  McVeigh.  "I  meant 
to.  Gertrude's  note  mentioned  that  her  uncle  was  under  the 
care  of  our  friend,  the  young-  medical  student,  so  you  will 
hear  the  very  latest  of  your  beloved  Paris." 

"Charming !  It  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  visit  us  soon.  This 
little  woman" — and  she  nodded  towards  Louise — "must  be 
treated  for  homesickness ;  you  observe  her  depression  since 
we  left  the  cities?  Dr.  Delaven  will  be  an  admirable  cure 
for  that." 

"Your  Louise  will  perhaps  cure  herself  when  she  sees  a 
home  again,"  remarked  Mrs.  McVeigh ;  "it  is  life  in  a  car 
riage  she  has  perhaps  grown  tired  of." 

"Madame  is  pleased  to  tease  me  as  people  tease  children 
for  being  afraid  in  the  dark,"  explained  Louise.  "I  am  not 
afraid,,  but  the  silence  does  give  one  a  chill.  I  shall  be  glad 
to  reach  the  door  of  your  house." 

"And  we  must  hasten.  Remember  all  the  messages, 
Pluto ;  bring  your  Miss  Lena  tomorrow  and  any  of  the 
others  who  will  come." 

"I  remember,  sure.  Glad  I  was  first  to-  see  yo'  all  back — 
good  night." 

The  other  colored  men  in  the  background  had  lost  all  in 
terest  in  the  'possum  hunt,  and  were  intent  listeners  to  the 
conversation.  Old  Nelse,  who  had  kept  up  to  the  rest  with 
much  difficulty,  now  pushed  himself  forward  for  a  nearer 
look  into  the  carriage.  Mrs.  McVeigh  did  not  notice  him. 
But  he  startled  the  Marquise  as  he  thrust  his  white  bushy 
head  and  aged  face  over  the  wheel  just  as  they  were  start 
ing,  and  the  woman  Louise  drew  back  with  a  gasp  of  actual 
fear. 

"What  a  stare  he  gave  us !"  she  said,  as  they  rolled  away 
from  the  group  by  the  roadside.  "That  old  man  had  eyes 


180  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

like  augers,  and  he  seemed  to  look  through  me — may  I  ask 
if  he,  also,  is  of  your  plantation,  Madame?" 

"Indeed,  he  is  not,"  was  Mrs.  McVeigh's  reassuring 
answer.  "But  he  did  not  really  mean  to  be  impertinent; 
just  some  childish  old  'uncle'  who  is  allowed  special  privi 
leges,  I  suppose.  No;  you  won't  see  any  one  like  that  at 
the  Terrace.  I  can't  think  who  it  could  be  unless  it  is 
Nelse,  an  old  free  man  of  Loring's ;  and  Nelse  used  to  have 
better  manners  than  that,  but  he  is  very  old — nearly  ninety, 
they  say.  I  don't  imagine  he  knows  his  own  age  exactly — 
few  of  the  older  ones  do." 

Pluto  caught  the  old  man  by  the  shoulder  and  fairly  lifted 
him  out  of  the  road  as  the  carriage  started. 

"What  the  matter  with  yo',  anyway,  a  pitchen'  yo'self 
'gainst  the  wheel  that-a-way?"  he  demanded.  "Yo'  ain't 
boun'  and  sot  to  get  run  over,  are  yo'  ?" 

Some  of  the  other  men  laughed,  but  Nelse  gripped  Pluto's 
hand  as  though  in  need  of  the  support. 

"Fo'  God! — thought  I  seen  a  ghost,  that  minute,"  he 
gasped,  as  the  other  men  started  after  the  dogs  again ;  "the 
ghost  of  a  woman  what  ain't  dead  yet — the  ghost  o'  Retta." 

"Yo'  plum  crazy,  ole  man,"  said  Pluto,  disdainfully. 
"How  the  ghost  o'  that  Marg'ret  get  in  my  mistress  car 
riage,  I  like  to  know  ? — 'special  as  the  woman's  as  live  as  any 
of  us.  Yo'  gone  'stracted  with  all  the  talken'  'bout  that 
Marg'ret's  story.  Now,  7  ain't  seen  a  mite  of  likeness  to  her 
in  that  carriage  at  all,  I  ain't." 

"That  'cause  yo'  ain't  nevah  see  Retta  as  she  used  to 
be.  I  tell  yo'  if  her  chile  Rhoda  alive  at  all  I  go  bail  she  the 
very  likeness  o'  that  woman.  My  king !  but  she  done  scairt 
me." 

"Don't  yo'  go  talk  such  notions  to  any  other  person,"  sug 
gested  Pluto.  "Yo'  get  yo'self  in  trouble  when  yo'  go  tellen' 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  181 

how  Mrs.  McVeigh's  company  look  like  a  nigger,  yo'  mind ! 
Why,  that  lady  the  highest  kind  o'  quality — most  a  queen 
where  she  comes  from.  How  yo'  reckon  Mrs.  McVeigh  like 
to  hear  such  talk?" 

"Might'nt  a'  been  the  highest  quality  one  I  meant,"  pro 
tested  Nelse,  strong  in  the  impression  he  had  received ;  "it 
wa'  the  othah  one,  then — the  one  in  a  black  dress." 

All  three  occupants  of  the  carriage  had  worn  dark  clothes, 
in  the  night  all  had  looked  black.  Nelse  had  only  observed 
one  closely ;  but  Pluto  saw  a  chance  of  frightening  the  old 
man  out  of  a  subject  of  gossip  so  derogatory  to  the  dignity 
of  the  Terrace  folks,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  use  it. 

"What  other  one  yo'  talken'  'bout?"  he  demanded,  stop 
ping  short,  "my  Mistress  McVeigh?" 

"Naw! — think  me  a  bawn  fool — you?  I  mean  the  otha 
one — the  number  three  lady." 

"This  here  moonlight  sure  'nough  make  you  see  double, 
ole  man,"  said  Pluto,  with  a  chuckle.  "Yo'  better  paddle 
yo'self  back  to  your  own  cabin  again  'stead  o'  hunten'  ghost 
women  'round  Lorin'wood,  'cause  there  wan't  only  two 
ladies  in  that  carriage — two  live  ladies,"  he  added,  mean 
ingly,  "an'  one  o'  them  was  my  mistress." 

"Fo'  Gawd's  sake!" 

The  old  man  appeared  absolutely  paralyzed  by  the  state 
ment.  His  eyes  fairly  bulged  from  their  sockets.  He  opened 
his  lips  again,  but  no  sound  came ;  a  grin  of  horror  was  the 
only  describable  expression  on  his  face.  All  the  supersti 
tion  in  his  blood  responded  to  Pluto's  suggestion,  and  when 
he  finally  spoke  it  was  in  a  ghostly  whisper. 

"I — I  done  been  a  looken'  for  it,"  he  gasped,  "take  me 
home — yo' !  It's  a  sure  'nough  sign !  Last  night  ole 
whippo'will  flopped  ovah  my  head.  Three  nights  runnen' 
a  hoot  owl  hooted  'fore  my  cabin.  An'  now  the  ghost  of  a 


182  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

woman  what  ain't  dead  yet,  sot  there  an'  stare  at  me !  I 
ain't  entered  fo'  no  mo'  races  in  this  heah  worl',  boy ;  I  done 
covah  the  track  fo'  las'  time ;  I  gwine  pass  tmdah  the  line 
at  the  jedge  stan',  I  tell  yo'.  I  got  my  las'  warnen' — I  gwine 
home!" 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Pluto  half  carried  the  old  man  back  to  Loringwood,  while 
the  other  darkies  continued  their  'possum  hunt.  Nelse  said 
very  little  after  his  avowal  of  the  "sign"  and  its  relation  to 
his  lease  of  life.  He  had  a  nervous  chill  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  house  and  Pluto  almost  repented  of  his  fiction. 
Finally  he  compromised  with  his  conscience  by  promising 
himself  to  own  the  truth  if  the  frightened  old  fellow  became 
worse. 

But  nothing  more  alarming  resulted  than  his  decision  to 
return  at  once  to  his  own  cabin,  and  the  further  statement 
that  he  desired  some  one  be  despatched  at  once  for  "that 
gal  Cynthy,"  which  was  done  according  to  his  orders. 

The  women  folk — old  Chloe  at  their  head — decided  Uncle 
Nelse  must  be  in  some  dangerous  condition  when  he  sent 
the  command  for  Cynthia,  whom  he  had  divorced  fifty 
years  before.  The  rumors  reached  Dr.  Delaven,  who  made 
a  visit  to  Nelse  in  the  cabin  where  he  was  installed  tem 
porarily,  waiting  for  the  boatmen  who  were  delegated  to  row 
him  home,  he  himself  declining  to  assist  in  navigation  or  any 
other  thing  requiring  physical  exertion. 

He  was  convinced  his  days  were  numbered,  his  earthly 
labors  over,  and  he  showed  abject  terror  when  Margeret 
entered  with  a  glass  of  bitters  Mrs.  Nesbitt  had  prepared 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  183 

with  the  idea  that  the  old  man  had  caught  a  chill  in  his 
endeavor  to  follow  the  dogs  on  the  oppossum  hunt. 

"I  told  you  all  how  it  would  be  when  I  heard  of  him 
going,"  she  asserted,  with  all  a  prophet's  satisfaction  in  a 
prophecy  verified.  "Pluto  had  to  just  about  tote  him  home 
— following  the  dogs  at  his  age,  the  idea !" 

But  for  all  her  disgust  at  his  frivolity  she  sent  the  bitters, 
and  Delaven  could  not  comprehend  his  shrinking  from  the 
cup-bearer. 

"Come — come,  now !  You're  not  at  all  sick,  my  man ; 
what  in  the  wide  world  are  you  shamming  for  ?  Is  it  for  the 
dram?  Sure,  you  could  have  that  without  all  this  commo 
tion." 

"I  done  had  a.  vision,  Mahs  Doctor,"  he  said,  with  im 
pressive  solemnity.  "My  time  gwine  come,  I  tell  yo."  He 
said  no  more  until  Margeret  left  the  room,  when  he  pointed 
after  her  with  nervous  intensity.  "It's  that  there  woman  I 
seen — the  ghost  o'  that  woman  what  ain't  dead — the  ghost 
o'  her  when  she  was  3'ottng  an'  han'some— that's  what  I 
seen  in  the  McVeigh  carriage  this  night,  plain  as  I  see  yo' 
face  this  minute.  But  no  such  live  woman  wa'  in  that  car 
riage,  sah.  Pluto,  he  couldn't  see  but  two,  an'  /  saw  three 
plain  as  I  could  see  one.  Sure  as  yo'  bawn  it's  a  death  sign, 
Mahs  Doctor ;  my  time  done  come." 

"Tut,  tut! — such  palaver.  That  would  be  the  queerest 
way,  entirely,  to  read  the  sign.  Now,  I  should  say  it  was 
Margeret  the  warning  was  for ;  why  should  the  likeness  of 
her  come  to  hint  of  your  death  ?" 

Nelse  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  was  deep  in  thought — 
a  nervous,  fidgety  season  of  thought — from  which  he  finally 
emerged  with  a  theory  evidently  not  of  comfort  to  himself. 

"I  done  been  talken'  too  much,"  he  whispered.  "I  talk 
on  an'  on  today ;  I  clar  fo'got  yo'  a  plum  stranger  to  we  all. 


184  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

I  tell  all  sorts  o'  family  things  what  maybe  Mahs  Duke  not 
want  tole.  I  talked  'bout  that  gal  Retta  most,  so  he  done 
sent  a  ghost  what  look  like  Retta  fo'  a  sign.  Till  day  I 
die  I  gwine  keep  my  mouth  shut  'bout  Mahs  Duke's  folks, 
1  tell  yo',  an'  I  gwine  straight  home  out  o'  way  o'  tempta 
tions." 

So  oppressed  was  he  with  the  idea  of  Mahs  Duke's  dis 
pleasure  that  he  determined  to  do  penance  if  need  be,  and 
commenced  by  refusing  a  coin  Delaven  offered  him. 

"No,  sah ;  I  don'  dar  take  it,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "an'  I 
glad  to  give  yo'  back  that  othar  dollar  to  please  Mahs  Duke, 
only  I  done  turned  it  into  a  houn'  dog  what  Ben  sold  me, 
and  Chloe — she  Ben's  mammy — she  got  it  from  him,  a'ready, 
an'  paid  it  out  fo'  a  pair  candlesticks  she  been  grudgen'  ole 
M'ria  a  long  time  back,  so  I  don'  see  how  I  evah  gwine  get 
it.  But  I  ain't  taken'  no  mo'  chances,  an'  I  ain't  a  risken'  no 
mo'  ghost  signs.  Jest  as  much  obliged  to  yo'  all,"  and 
he  sighed  regretfully,  as  Delaven  repocketed  the  coin;  but 
I  know  when  I  got  enough  o'  ghosts." 

Pluto  had  grace  enough  to  be  a  trifle  uneasy  at  the  in 
tense  despondency  caused  by  his  fiction  in  what  he  consid 
ered  a  good  cause.  The  garrulity  of  old  Nelse  was  verging 
on  childishness.  Pluto  was  convinced  that  despite  the  old 
man's  wonderful  memory  of  details  in  the  past,  he  was 
entirely  irresponsible  as  to  his  accounts  of  the  present,  and 
he  did  not  intend  that  the  McVeigh  family  or  any  of  their 
visitors  should  be  the  subject  of  his  unreliable  gossip.  Pride 
of  family  was  by  no  means  restricted  to  the  whites.  Revolu 
tionary  as  Pluto's  sentiments  were  regarding  slavery,  his 
self  esteem  was  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  since  he  was  a 
bondman  it  was,  at  any  rate,  to  a  first-class  family — regular 
quality  folks,  whose  honor  he  would  defend  under  any  cir 
cumstances,  whether  bond  or  free. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  185 

His  clumsily  veiled  queries  about  the  probable  result  of 
Uncle  Nelse's  attack  aroused  the  suspicions  of  Delaven  that 
the  party  of  hunters  had  found  themselves  hampered  by  the 
presence  of  their  aged  visitor,  who  was  desirous  of  testing 
the  ability  of  his  new  purchase,  the  hound  dog,  and  that 
they  had  resorted  to  some  ghost  trick  to  get  rid  of  him. 

He  could  not  surmise  how  the  shade  of  Margeret  had 
been  made  do  duty  for  the  occasion,  her  subdued,  serious 
manner  giving  the  denial  to  any  practical  joke  escapades. 

But  the  news  Pluto  brought  of  Mrs.  McVeigh's  home 
coming  dwarfed  all  such  episodes  as  a  scared  nigger  who 
refused  to  go  into  details  as  to  the  scare,  and  in  his  own 
words  was  "boun'  an'  sot"  to  keep  his  mouth  shut  in  future 
about  anything  in  the  past  which  he  ever  had  known  and 
seen,  or  anything  in  his  brief  earthly  future  which  he  might 
know  or  see.  He  even  begged  Delaven  to  forget  imme 
diately  the  numerous  bits  of  history  he,  Nelse,  had  repeated 
of  the  Loring  family,  and  Delaven  comforted  him  by  declar 
ing  that  all  he  could  remember  that  minute  was  the  horse 
race  and  he  would  put  that  out  of  his  mind  at  once  if 
necessary. 

Nelse  was  not  sure  it  was  necessary  to  forget  that,  be 
cause  it  didn't  in  any  way  reflect  discredit  on  the  family, 
and  he  didn't  in  reason  see  why  his  Mahs  Duke  should  ob 
ject  to  that  story  unless  it  was  on  account  of  the  high-flier 
lady  from  Philadelphia  what  Mahs  Duke  won  away  from 
Mr.  Jackson  without  any  sort  of  trouble  at  all,  and  if  Mahs 
Duke  was  hovering  around  in  the  library  when  Miss  Evilena 
and  Mahs  Doctor  listened  to  that  story,  Mahs  Duke  ought 
to  know  in  his  heart,  if  he  had  any  sort  of  memory  at  all, 
that  he,  Nelse,  had  not  told  half  what  he  might  have  told 
about  that  Northern  filly  and  Mahs  Duke.  And  taking 
it  all  in  all  Nelse  didn't  see  any  reason  why  Delaven  need 


186  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

put  that  out  of  his  remembrance — especially  as  it  was  mighty 
good  running  for  two-year-olds. 

Evilena  had  peeped  in  for  a  moment  to  say  good-bye  to 
their  dusky  Homer.  But  the  call  was  very  brief.  All  her 
thoughts  were  filled  with  the  folks  at  the  Terrace,  and  dawn 
in  the  morning  had  been  decided  on  for  the  ten-mile  row 
home,  so  anxious  was  she  to  greet  her  mother,  and  so  lively 
was  her  interest  in  the  wonderful  foreigner  whom  Dr.  Dela- 
ven  had  described  as  "Beauty's  self." 

That  lady  had  in  th-2  meantime  arrived  at  the  Terrace, 
partaken  of  a  substantial  supper,  and  retired  to  her  own 
apartments,  leaving  behind  her  an  impression  on  the  colored 
folks  of  the  household  that  the  foreign  guest  was  no  one 
less  than  some  latter  day  queen  of  Sheba.  Never  before 
had  their  eyes  beheld  a  mistress  who  owned  white  servants, 
and  the  maid  servant  herself,  so  fine  she  wore  silk  stockings 
and  a  delaine  dress,  had  her  meals  in  her  own  room  and  was 
so  grand  she  wouldn't  even  talk  like  folks,  but  only  spoke  in 
French,  except  when  she  wanted  something  special,  at 
which  time  she  would  condescend  to  talk  "United  States" 
to  the  extent  of  a  word  or  two.  All  this  superiority  in  the 
maid — whom  they  were  instructed  to  call  "Miss" — reflected 
added  glory  on  the  mistress,  who,  at  the  supper  table,  had 
been  heard  say  she  preferred  laying  aside  a  title  while  in 
America,  and  to  be  known  simply  as  Madame  Caron ;  and 
laughingly  confessed  to  Mrs.  McVeigh  that  the  American 
Republic  was  in  a  fair  way  to  win  her  from  the  French  Em 
pire,  all  of  which  was  told  at  once  in  the  kitchen,  where  they 
were  more  convinced  than  ever  that  royalty  had  descended 
upon  them.  This  fact  did  not  tend  to  increase  their  useful 
ness  in  any  capacity ;  they  were  so  overcome  by  the  grandeur 
and  the  importance  of  each  duty  assigned  to  them  that  the 
wheels  of  domestic  machinery  at  the  Terrace  that  evening 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  187 

were  fairly  clogged  by  the  eagerness  and  the  trepidation  of 
the  workers.  They  figuratively — and  sometimes  literally — 
fell  over  each  other  to  anticipate  any  call  which  might  as 
sure  them  entrance  to  the  wonderful  presence,  and  were 
almost  frightened  dumb  when  they  got  there. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  apologized  for  them  and  amused  her  guest 
with  the  reason: 

"They  have  actually  never  seen  a  white  servant  in  their 
lives,  and  are  eaten  up  with  curiosity  over  the  very  superior 
maid  of  yours,  her  intelligence  places  her  so  high  above  their 
ideas  of  servitors." 

"Yes,  she  is  intelligent,"  agreed  the  Marquise,  "and  much 
more  than  her  intelligence,  I  value  her  adaptability.  As  my 
housekeeper  she  was  simply  perfect,  but  when  my  maid  grew 
ill  and  I  was  about  to  travel,  behold!  the  dignity  of  the 
housekeeper  was  laid  aside,  and  with  a  bewitching  maid's 
eap  and  apron,  and  smile,  she  applied  for  the  vacant  posi 
tion  and  got  it,  of  course." 

"It  was  stupid  of  me  not  to  offer  you  a  maid,"  said  Mrs. 
McVeigh,  regretfully;  "I  did  not  understand.  But  I  could 
not,  of  course,  have  given  you  any  one  so  perfect  as  your 
Louise ;  she  is  a  treasure." 

"I  shall  probably  have  to  get  along  with  some  one  less 
perfect  in  the  future,"  said  the  other,  ruefully.  "She  was  to 
have  had  my  yacht  refurnished  and  some  repairs  made  while 
I  was  here,  and  now  that  I  am  safely  located,  may  send 
her  back  to  attend  to  it.  She  is  worth  any  two  men  I  could 
employ  for  such  supervision,  in  fact,  I  trust  many  such 
things  to  her." 

"Pray  let  her  remain  long  enough  to  gain  a  pleasant  im 
pression  of  plantation  life,"  suggested  Mrs.  McVeigh,  as 
they  rose  from  the  table.  "I  fancied  she  was  depressed  by 
the  monotony  of  the  swamp  lands,  or  else  made  nervous  by 


188  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

the  group  of  black  men  around  the  carriage  there  at  Loring- 
wood ;  they  did  look  formidable,  perhaps,  to  a  stranger 
at  night,  but  are  really  the  most  kindly  creatures." 

Judithe  de  Caron  had  walked  to  the  windows  opening  on 
the  veranda  and  was  looking  out  across  the  lawn,  light  al 
most  as  day  under  the  high  moon,  a  really  lovely  view,  though 
both  houses  and  grounds  were  on  a  more  modest  scale 
than  those  of  Loringwood.  They  lacked  the  grandeur  sug 
gested  by  the  century-old  cedars  she  had  observed  along  the 
Loring  drive.  The  Terrace  was  much  more  modern  and, 
possibly,  so  much  more  comfortable.  It  had  in  a  superlative 
degree  the  delightful  atmosphere  of  home,  and  although  the 
stranger  had  been  within  its  gates  so  short  a  time,  she 
was  conscious  of  the  wonder  if  in  all  her  varied  experience 
she  had  ever  been  in  so  real  a  home  before. 

"How  still  it  all  is,"  remarked  Mrs.  McVeigh,  joining 
her.  "Tomorrow,  when  my  little  girl  gets  back,  it  will  be 
less  so ;  come  out  on  the  veranda  and  I  can  show  you  a 
glimpse  of  the  river ;  you  see,  our  place  is  built  on  a  natural 
terrace  sloping  to  the  Salkahatchie.  It  gives  us  a  very  good 
view." 

"Charming !    I  can  see  that  even  in  the  night  time." 

"Three  miles  down  the  river  is  the  Clarkson  place ;  they 
are  most  pleasant  friends,  and  Miss  Loring's  place,  The 
Pines,  joins  the  Terrace  grounds,  so  we  are  not  so 
isolated  as  might  appear  at  first ;  and  fortunately  for  us  our 
plantation  is  a  favorite  gathering  place  for  all  of  them." 

"I  can  quite  believe  that.  I  have  been  here  two — three 
hours,  perhaps,  and  I  know  already  why  your  friends  would 
be  only  too  happy  to  come.  You  make  them  a  home  from 
the  moment  they  enter  your  door." 

"You  could  not  say  anything  more  pleasing  to  my  vanity, 
Marquise,"  said  her  hostess,  laughingly,  and  then  checked 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  189 

herself  at  sight  of  an  upraised  finger.  "Oh,  I  forgot — I  do 
persist  in  the  Marquise." 

"Come,  let  us  compromise,"  suggested  her  guest,  "if 
Madame  Caron  sounds  too  new  and  strange  in  your  ears. 
I  have  another  name,  Judithe ;  it  may  be  more  easily  remem 
bered." 

"In  Europe  and  England,"  she  continued,  "where  there 
are  so  many  royal  paupers,  titles  do  not  always  mean  what 
they  are  supposed  to.  I  have  seen  a  Russian  prince  who  was 
a  hostler,  an  English  lord  who  was  an  attendant  in  a  gam 
bling  house,  and  an  Italian  count  porter  on  a  railway.  Over 
here,  where  titles  are  rare,  they  make  one  conspicuous ;  I 
perceived  that  in  New  Orleans.  I  have  no  desire  to  be  es 
pecially  conspicuous.  I  only  want  to  enjoy  myself." 

"You  can't  help  people  noticing  you  a  great  deal,  with  or 
without  a  title,"  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  at  her  under- 
standingly.  "You  cannot  hope  to  escape  being  distin 
guished,  but  you  shall  be  whatever  you  like  at  the  Terrace." 

They  walked  arm  in  arm  the  length  of  the  veranda,  chat 
ting  lightly  of  Parisian  days  and  people  until  ten  o'clock 
sounded  from  the  tall  clock  in  the  library.  Mrs.  McVeigh 
counted  the  strokes  and  exclaimed  at  the  lateness. 

"I  certainly  am  a  poor  enough  hostess  to  weary  you  the 
first  evening  with  chatter  instead  of  sending  you  to  rest,  after 
such  a  drive,"  she  said,  in  self  accusation.  But  you  are  such 
a  temptation — Judithe." 

They  both  laughed  at  her  slight  hesitation  over  the  first 
attempt  at  the  name. 

"Never  mind ;  you  will  get  used  to  it  in  time,"  promised 
the  Marquise,  "I  am  glad  you  call  me  'Judithe.'  " 

Then  they  said  good  night ;  she  acknowledged  she  did  feel 
sleepy — a  little — though  she  had  forgotten  it  until  the 
clock  struck. 

13 


190  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  left  her  at  the  door  and  went  on  down  the 
hall  to  her  own  apartment — a  little  regretful  lest  Judithe 
should  be  over  wearied  by  the  journey  and  the  evening's 
gossip. 

But  she  really  looked  a  very  alert,  wide-awake  young 
lady  as  she  divested  herself  of  the  dark  green  travelling  dress 
and  slipped  into  the  luxurious  lounging  robe  Mademoiselle 
Louise  held  ready. 

Her  brows  were  bent  in  a  frown  of  perplexity  very  differ 
ent  from  the  gay  smile  with  which  she  had  parted  from  her 
hostess.  She  glanced  at  her  attendant  and  read  there  anx 
iety,  even  distress. 

"Courage,  Louise,"  she  said,  cheerily ;  "all  is  not  lost  that's 
in  danger.  Horrors !  What  a  long  face !  Look  at  yourself 
in  the  mirror.  I  have  not  seen  such  a  mournful  countenance 
since  the  taking  of  New  Orleans." 

"And  it  was  not  your  mirror  showed  a  mournful  counte 
nance  that  day,  Marquise,"  returned  the  other.  "I  am  glad 
some  one  can  laugh ;  but  for  me,  I  feel  more  like  crying, 
and  that's  the  truth.  Heavens !  How  long  that  time  seemed 
until  you  came." 

"I  know,"  and  the  glance  of  her  mistress  was  very  kind. 
"I  could  feel  that  you  were  walking  the  floor  and  waiting, 
but  it  was  not  possible  to  get  away  sooner.  Get  the  other 
brush,  child ;  there  are  wrinkles  in  my  head  as  well  as  my 
hair  this  evening ;  you  must  help  me  to  smooth  them." 

But  the  maid  was  not  to  be  comforted  by  even  that  sug 
gestion,  though  she  brushed  the  wavy,  dusky  mane  with  lov 
ing  hands — one  could  not  but  read  tenderness  in  every  touch 
she  gave  the  shining  tresses.  But  her  sighs  were  frequent 
for  all  that. 

"Me  of  help  ?"  she  said,  hopelessly.  "I  tell  you  true,  Mar 
quise,  I  am  no  use  to  anybody,  I'm  that  nervous.  I  was 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  191 

afraid  of  this  journey  all  the  time.  I  told  you  so  before  you 
left  Mobile ;  you  only  laughed  at  my  superstitious  fears,  and 
now,  even  before  we  reach  the  place,  you  see  what  hap 
pened." 

"I  see,"  asserted  the  Marquise,  smiling  at  her,  teasingly, 
"but  then  the  reasons  you  gave  were  ridiculous,  Louise ;  you 
had  dreams,  and  a  coffin  in  a  teacup.  Come,  come ;  it  is  not 
so  bad  as  you  fear,  despite  the  prophetic  tea  grounds ;  there 
is  always  a  way  out  if  you  look  for  paths ;  so  we  will  look." 

"It  is  all  well  for  you,  Marquise,  to  scoff  at  the  omens ; 
you  are  too  learned  to  believe  in  them;  but  it  is  in  our 
blood,  perhaps,  and  it's  no  use  us  fighting  against  presenti 
ments,  for  they're  stronger  than  we  are.  I  had  no  heart  to 
get  ready  for  the  journey — not  a  bit.  We  are  cut  off  from 
the  world,  and  even  suppose  you  could  accomplish  anything 
here,  it  will  be  more  difficult  than  in  the  cities,  and  the 
danger  so  much  greater." 

"Then  the  excitement  will  provide  an  attraction,  child, 
and  the  late  weeks  have  really  been  very  dull." 

The  hair  dressing  ceased  because  the  maid  could  not 
manipulate  the  brush  and  express  sufficient  surprise  at  the 
same  time. 

"Heavens,  Madame !  What  then  would  you  call  lively  if 
this  has  been  dull?  I'm  patriotic  enough — or  revengeful 
enough,  perhaps — for  any  human  sort  of  work ;  but  you 
fairly  frighten  me  sometimes  the  way  you  dash  into  things, 
and  laughing  at  it  all  thetime  as  if  it.were  onlya  joke  to  you, 
just  as  you  are  doing  this  minute.  You  are  harder  than  iron 
in  some  things  and  yet  you  look  so  delicately  lovely — so  like 
a  beautiful  flower — that  every  one  loves  you,  and — " 

"Every  one?  Oh,  Louise,  child,  do  you  fancy,  then,  that 
you  are  the  whole  world?" 


192  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

The  maid  lifted  the  hand  of  the  mistress  and  touched  it 
to  her  cheek. 

"I  don't  only  love  you,  I  worship  you,"  she  murmured. 
"You  took  me  when  I  was  nothing,  you  trusted  me,  you 
taught  me,  you  made  a  new  woman  of  me.  I  wouldn't  ever 
mind  slavery  if  I  were  your  slave." 

"There,  there,  Louise;"  and  she  laid  her  hand  gently  on 
the  head  of  the  girl  who  had  sunk  on  the  floor  beside  her. 
"We  are  all  slaves,  more  or  less,  to  something  in  this  world. 
Our  hearts  arrange  that  without  appeal  to  the  law-makers." 

"All  but  yours,"  said  the  maid,  looking  up  at  her  fondly 
and  half  questioningly,  "I  don't  believe  your  heart  is  al 
lowed  to  arrange  anything  for  you.  Your  head  does  it  all ; 
that  is  why  I  say  you  are  hard  as  iron  in  some  things.  I 
don't  honestly  believe  your  heart  is  even  in  this  cause  you 
take  such  risks  for.  You  think  it  over,  decide  it  is  wrong, 
and  deliberately  outstrip  every  one  else  in  your  endeavor  to 
right  it.  That  is  all  because  you  are  very  learned  and  very 
superior  to  the  emotions  of  most  people ;"  and  she  touched 
the  hand  of  the  Marquise  caressingly.  "That  is  how  I  have 
thought  it  all  out;  for  I  see  that  the  motives  others  are 
moved  by  never  touch  you ;  the  others — even  the  high  offi 
cials — do  not  understand  you,  or  only  one  did." 

Her  listener  had  drifted  from  attention  to  the  soft  caress 
ing  tones  of  the  one  time  Parisian  figurante,  whose  devotion 
was  so  apparent  and  whose  nature  required  a  certain  amount 
of  demonstration.  The  Marquise  had,  from  the  first,  com 
prehended  her  wonderfully  well,  and  knew  that  back  of  those 
feminine,  almost  childish  cravings  for  expression,  there  lived 
an  affectionate  nature  too  long  debarred  from  worthy  objects, 
and  now  absolutely  adoring  the  one  she  deemed  her  bene 
factress  ;  all  the  more  adoring  because  of  the  courage  and 
daring,  that  to  her  had  a  fascinating  touch  of  masculinity 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  193 

about  it ;  no  woman  less  masterful,  nor  less  beautiful,  could 
have  held  the  pretty  Kora  so  completely.  The  dramatic 
side  of  her  nature  was  appealed  to  by  the  luxurious  sur 
roundings  of  the  Marquise,  and  the  delightful  uncertainty, 
as  each  day's  curtain  of  dawn  was  lifted,  whether  she  was 
to  see  comedy  or  tragedy  enacted  before  the  night  fell.  She 
had  been  audience  to  both,  many  times,  since  the  Marquise 
had  been  her  mistress. 

Just  now  the  mistress  was  in  some  perplexed  quandary  of 
her  own,  and  gave  little  heed  to  the  flattering  opinions  of 
the  maid,  and  only  aroused  to  the  last  remark  at  which  she 
turned  with  questioning  eyes,  not  entirely  approving : 

"Whom  do  you  mean?"  she  asked,  with  a  trifle  of  con 
straint,  and  the  maid  sighed  as  she  selected  a  ribbon  to  bind 
the  braid  she  had  finished. 

"No  one  you  would  remember,  Marquise,"  she  said,  shak 
ing  her  head ;  "the  trouble  is  you  remember  none  of  them, 
though  you  make  it  impossible  that  they  should  forget  you. 
Many  of  those  fine  gallants  of  Orleans  I  was  jealous  of  and 
glad  to  see  go ;  but  this  one,  truly  now,  he  seemed  to  me 
well  worth  keeping." 

"Had  he  a  name?"  asked  the  Marquise,  removing  some 
rings,  and  yawning  slightly. 

"He  had,"  said  the  girl,  who  was  unfolding  a  night  robe 
and  shaking  the  wrinkles  from  the  very  Parisian  confection 
of  lawn  and  lace  and  tiny  pink  ribbons  accenting  neck  and 
wrist.  When  she  walked  one  perceived  a  slight  halt  in  her 
step — a  reminder  of  the  injury  through  which  her  career  in 
Paris  had  been  brought  to  an  end.  "He  had,  my  Marquise. 
I  mean  the  Federal  officer,  Monroe — Captain  Jack,  the  men 
called  him.  Of  all  the  Orleans  gentlemen  he  was  the  only 
one  I  thought  fit  for  a  mate  for  you — the  only  one  I  was 
sorry  to  see  you  send  away." 


194  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Send?  What  an  imaginative  romanceryou  are !  He  went 
where  his  duty  called  him,  no  doubt.  I  do  not  remember 
that  I  was  responsible.  And  your  choice  of  him  shows  you 
are  at  least  not  worldly  in  your  selections,  for  he  was  a  reck 
less  sort  of  ranger,  I  believe,  with  his  sword  and  his  assur 
ance  as  chief  belongings." 

"You  forget,  Marquise,  his  courage." 

"Oh,  that !"  and  Judithe  made  a  little  gesture  of  dismissal ; 
"it  is  nothing  in  a  man,  all  men  should  have  courage.  But, 
to  change  the  subject,  which  of  the  two  men  have  most  in 
terest  for  us  tonight,  Captain  Jack  or  Dr.  Delaven?  The 
latter,  I  fancy.  While  you  have  been  chattering  I  have  been 
making  plans." 

The  maid  ceased  her  movements  about  the  room  in  the 
preparations  for  the  night,  and,  drawing  a  low  stool  closer, 
listened  with  all  attention. 

"Since  you  are  afraid  here  and  too  much  oppressed  by 
your  presentiments  to  be  useful" — she  accompanied  this  de 
rogatory  statement  with  an  amused  smile — "I  conclude  it 
best  for  you  to  return  to  the  sea-board  at  once — before  Dr. 
Delaven  and  the  rest  pay  their  duty  visit  here. 

"I  had  hoped  the  change  in  your  appearance  would  place 
you  beyond  danger  of  recognition,  and  so  it  would  with  any 
one  who  had  not  known  you  personally.  Madame  McVeigh 
has  been  vaguely  impressed  with  your  resemblance  to  Mon 
sieur  Dumaresque's  picture.  But  the  impression  of  Dr. 
Delaven  would  probably  be  less  vague — his  remembrance  of 
you  not  having  been  entirely  the  memory  of  a  canvas." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  agreed  the  other,  with  a  regretful 
sigh.  "I  have  spoken  with  him  many  times.  He  came  with 
— with  his  friend  Trouvelot  to  see  me  when  I  was  injured. 
It  was  he  who  told  me  the  physicians  were  propping  me  up 
with  falsehoods,  and  taking  my  money  for  curing  a  lameness 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  195 

they  knew  was  incurable.  Yes,  he  was  my  good  friend 
in  that.  He  would  surely  remember  me,"  and  she  looked 
troubled. 

"So  I  supposed;  and  with  rumors  abroad  of  an  unknown 
in  the  heart  of  the  South,  who  is  a  secret  agent  for  the  Fed 
erals,  it  is  as  well  not  to  meet  any  one  who  could  suggest  that 
the  name  you  use  is  an  assumed  one,  it  might  interfere  with 
your  usefulness  even  more  than  your  dismal  presentiments," 
and  she  arched  her  brows  quizzically  at  the  maid,  who  sighed 
forlornly  over  the  complications  suggested.  "So,  you  must 
leave  at  once." 

"Leave,  alone — without  you  ?'"  and  the  girTs  agitation  was 
very  apparent.  "Madame,  I  "beg  you  to  find  some  reason  for 
going  with  me,  or  for  following  at  once.  I  could  send  a  dis 
patch  from  Savannah,  you  could  make  some  excuse !  You, 
oh,  Marquise !  if  I  leave  you  here  alone  I  would  be  in  des 
pair ;  I  would  fear  I  should  never,  never  see  you  again !" 

"Nonsense,  child !  There  is  absolutely  no  ground  for 
your  fears.  If  you  should  meet  trouble  in  any  way  you  have 
only  to  send  me  word  and  I  will  be  with  you.  But  your 
imaginary  terrors  you  must  yourself  subdue.  Come,  now, 
be  reasonable.  You  must  go  back — it  is  decided.  Take  note 
of  all  landmarks  as  we  did  in  coming;  if  messengers  are 
needed  it  is  much  better  that  you  inform  yourself  of  all  ap 
proaches  here.  Wait  for  the  yacht  at  Savannah.  Buy  any 
thing  needed  for  its  refurnishing,  and  see  that  a  certain 
amount  of  repairing  is  done  there  while  you  wait  further 
orders.  I  shall  probably  have  it  brought  to  Beaufort,  later, 
which  would  be  most  convenient  if  I  should  desire  to  give 
my  good  friends  here  a  little  salt  water  excursion.  So,  you 
perceive,  it  is  all  very  natural,  and  it  is  all  decided." 

"Heavens,  Marquise,  how  fast  you  move !    I  had  only  got 


196  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

so  far  I  was  afraid  to  remain,  and  afraid  to  excite  wonder  by 
leaving ;  and  while  I  lament,  you  arrange  a  campaign." 

"Exactly ;  so  you  see  how  easily  it  is  all  to  be  done,  and 
how  little  cause  .for  your  fears." 

"I  am  so  much  more  contented  that  I  will  see  everything 
as  you  wish,"  promised  the  girl,  brightly.  "Savannah,  after 
all,  is  not  very  far,  and  Beaufort  is  nearer  still.  But  after  all, 
you  must  own,  my  presentiments  were  not  all  wrong, 
Marquise.  It  really  was  unlucky — this  journey." 

"We  have  heretofore  had  only  good  fortune ;  why  should 
we  complain  because  of  a  few  obstacles  now?"  asked  her 
mistress.  "To  become  a  diplomat  one  needs  to  be  first  a 
philosopher,,  and  prepared  at  all  times  for  the  worst." 

"I  could  be  more  of  a  philosopher  myself  over  these  com 
plications,"  agreed  the  girl,  smiling,  "if  I  were  a  foreigner 
of  rank  seeking  amusement  and  adventure.  But  the  trou 
bles  of  all  this  country  have  come  so  close  home  to  the  peo 
ple  of  my  race  that  we  fear  even  to  think  what  the  worst 
might  be." 

The  Marquise  held  up  an  admonishing  finger  and  glanced 
towards  the  door. 

"Of  course  no  one  hears,  but  it  is  best  never  to  allow  your 
self  the  habit  of  referring  to  family  or  personal  affairs.  Even 
though  we  speak  a  language  not  generally  understood  in 
this  country,  do  not — even  to  me — speak  of  your  race.  I 
know  all,  understand  it  all,  without  words ;  and,  for  the  peo 
ple  we  have  met,  they  do  not  doubt  you  are  a  San  Domingo 
Creole.  You  must  be  careful  lest  they  think  differently." 

"You  are  right ;  what  a  fool  I  am !  My  tongue  ever  runs 
ahead  of  my  wit.  Marquise,  sometimes  I  laugh  when  I  re 
member  how  capable  I  thought  myself  on  leaving  Paris, 
what  great  things  I  was  to  do — I !"  and  she  shrugged  her 
plump  shoulders  in  self  derision.  "Why,  I  should  have  been 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  197 

discovered  a  dozen  times  had  I  depended  on  my  own  wit.  I 
am  a  good  enough  orderly,  but  only  under  a  capable  gen 
eral,"  and  she  made  a  smiling  courtesy  to  the  Marquise. 

"Chatterbox!  If  I  am  the  general  of  your  distinguished 
selection,  I  shall  issue  an  order  at  once  for  your  immediate 
retirement." 

"Oh,  Marquise!" 

"To  bed,"  concluded  her  mistress,  gayly,  "go ;  I  shall  not 
need  you.  I  have  work  to  do." 

The  girl  first  unlaced  the  dark  boots  and  substituted  a 
pair  of  soft  pink  slippers,  and  touched  her  cheek  to  the 
slender  foot. 

"I  shall  envy  the  maid  who  does  even  that  for  you  when 
I  am  gone,"  she  said,  softly.  "Now,  good  rest  to  you,  my 
general,  and  pleasant  dreams." 

"Thanks ;  but  my  dreams  are  never  formidable  nor  im 
portant,"  was  the  teasing  reply  as  the  maid  vanished.  The 
careless  smile  gave  way  to  a  quick  sigh  of  relief  as  the 
door  closed.  She  arose  and  walked  back  and  forth  across 
the  room  with  nervous,  rapid  steps,  her  hands  clasped  back 
of  her  head  and  the  wide  sleeves  of  the  robe  slipped  back, 
showing  the  perfect  arms.  She  seemed  a  trifle  taller  than 
when  in  Paris  that  first  springtime,  and  the  open  robe  re 
vealed  a  figure  statuesque,  perfect  as  a  sculptor's  ideal,  yet 
without  the  statue's  coldness ;  for  the  uncovered  throat  and 
bosom  held  delicious  dimples  where  the  robe  fell  apart  and 
was  swept  aside  by  her  restless  movements. 

But  her  own  appearance  was  evidently  far  from  her 
thoughts  at  that  moment.  Several  of  Mrs.  McVeigh's  very 
affectionate  words  and  glances  had  recurred  to  her  and 
brought  her  a  momentary  restlessness.  It  was  utterly  ab 
surd  that  it  should  be  so,  especially  when  she  had  encour 
aged  the  fondness,  and  meant  to  continue  doing  so.  Bui 


198  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she  had  not  counted  on  being  susceptible  to  the  same  feel 
ing  for  Kenneth  McVeigh's  mother — yet  she  had  come  very 
near  it,  and  felt  it  necessary  to  lay  down  the  limits  as  to  just 
how  far  she  would  allow  such  a  fondness  to  lead  her. 

And  the  fact  that  she  was  in  the  home  of  her  one-time 
lover  gave  rise  to  other  complex  fancies.  How  would  they 
meet  if  chance  should  send  him  there  during  her  stay  ?  He 
had  had  time  for  many  more  such  boyish  fancies  since  those 
days,  and  back  of  them  all-  was  the  home  sweetheart  she 
heard  spoken  of  so  often — Gertrude  Loring. 

How  very,  very  long  ago  it  seemed  since  the  meetings  at 
Fontainbleau ;  what  an  impulsive  fool  she  had  been,  and 
how  childish,  it  all  seemed  mow ! 

But  Judithe  de  Caron  told  herself  she  was  not  the  sort  of 
person  to  allow  memories  of  bygone  sentiment  to  interfere 
for  long  with  practical  affairs.  She  drew  up  a  chair  to  the 
little  stand  by  the  window  and  plunged  into  the  work  she 
had  spoken  of,  and  for  an  hour  her  pen  moved  rapidly  over 
the  paper  until  page  after  page  was  laid  aside. 

But  after  the  last  bit  of  memoranda  was  completed  she 
leaned  back,  looking  out  into  the  blue  mists  of  the  night — 
across  his  lands  luxuriant  in  all  the  beauty  of  summer  time 
and  moonlight,  the  fields  over  which  he  had  ridden,  the  trees 
under  which  he  had  walked,  with,  perhaps,  an  occasional 
angry  thought  of  her — never  dreaming  that  she,  also,  would 
walk  there  some  day. 

"But  to  think  that  I  am  actually  here — here  above  all !" 
she  murmured  softly.  "Maman,  once  I  said  I  would  be 
Judithe  indeed  to  that  man  if  he  was  ever  delivered  into  my 
hands.  Yet,  when  he  came  I  ran  away  from  him — ran  away 
because  I  was  afraid  of  him !  But  now — : 

Her  beautiful  eyes  half  closed  in  a  smile  not  mirthful,  and 
the  sentence  was  left  unfinished. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  199 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

What  embraces,  ejaculations  and  caresses,  when  Evilena, 
accompanied  by  Pluto  and  the  delighted  Raquel,  arrived  at 
the  Terrace  next  morning!  Judithe,  who  saw  from  the 
veranda  the  rapturous  meeting  of  mother  and  daughter, 
sighed,  a  quick,  impatient  catching  of  the  breath,  and  turned 
to  enter  the  library  through  the  open  French  windows.  Re 
considering  her  intention,  she  halted,  and  waited  at  the  head 
of  the  broad  steps  where  Kenneth's  sister  saw  her  for  the 
first  time  and  came  to  her  with  a  pleased,  half  shy  greeting, 
and  where  Kenneth's  mother  slipped  one  arm  around  each 
as  they  entered  the  house,  and  between  the  two  she  felt  wel 
comed  into  the  very  heart  of  the  McVeigh  family  feminine. 

"Oh,  and  mamma !" — thus  exclaimed  Evilena  as  she  was 
comfortably  ensconced  in  the  same  chair  with  that  lady — 
"there  is  so  much  news  to  tell  you  I  don't  know  where  to 
begin.  But  Gertrude  sends  love — please  don't  go,  Madame 
Caron — I  am  only  going  to  talk  about  the  neighbors.  And 
they  are  all  coming  over  very  soon,  and  the  best  of  all  is, 
Gertrude  has  at  last  coaxed  Uncle  Matthew  (a  roguish  grim 
ace  at  the  title)  to  give  up  Loringwood  entirely  and  come  to 
the  Pines.  And  Dr.Delaven — he's  delightful,  mamma,  when 
he  isn't  teasing  folks — he  strongly  advises  them  to  make  the 
change  soon ;  and,  oh,  won't  you  ask  them  all  over  for  a  few 
weeks  until  the  Pines  is  ready?  And  did  you  hear  about 
two  of  their  field  hands  running  off  ?  Well,  they  did.  Scip 
and  Aleck ;  isn't  it  too  bad  ?  and  Mr.  Loring  doesn't  know 


200  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

it  yet,  no  one  dares  tell  him ;  and  Masterson's  Cynthia  had  a 
boy  run  off,  too,  and  went  to  the  Yankees,  they  suppose. 
And  old  Nelse  he  got  scared  sick  at  a  ghost  last  night  while 
they  were  'possum  hunting.  And,  oh,  mamma,  have  you 
heard  from  Ken  ? — not  a  word  has  come  here,  and  he  never 
even  saw  Gertrude  over  there.  He  must  be  powerful  busy  if 
he  could  not  stop  long  enough  to  hunt  friends  up  and  say 
'howdy.' " 

"Lena,  Lena,  child!"  and  the  mother  sank  back  in  her 
chair,  laughing.  "Have  they  enforced  some  silent  system  of 
existence  on  you  since  I  have  been  down  at  Mobile  ?  I  de 
clare,  you  fairly  make  my  head  swim  with  your  torrent  of 
news  and  questions.  Judithe,  does  not  this  young  lady  ful 
fill  the  foreign  idea  of  the  American  girl — a  combination  of 
the  exclamation  and  interrogation  point?" 

Evilena  stopped  further  criticism  by  kisses. 

"I  will  be  good  as  goodness  rather  than  have  Madame 
Caron  make  up  her  mind  I  am  silly  the  very  first  day,"  she 
promised,  "but,  oh,  mamma,  it  is  so  good  to  have  you  to  talk 
to,  and  so  delightful  of  Madame  to  come  with  you" — this 
with  a  swift,  admiring  side  glance  at  their  visitor — "and,  al 
together,  I'm  just  in  love  with  the  world  today." 

Later  she  informed  them  that  Judge  Clarkson  would 
probably  drive  over  that  evening,  as  he  was  going  to  Co 
lumbia  or  Savannah — she  had  forgotten  which — and  had  to 
go  home  first.  He  would  have  come  with  her  but  for  a  busi 
ness  talk  he  wanted  to  have,  if  Mr.  Loring  was  able,  this 
morning. 

"Gertrude  coaxed  him  to  stop  over  and  settle  something 
about  selling  Loringwood.  She's  just  grieving  over  the 
wreck  and  ruin  there,  and  Mr.  Loring  never  will  be  able  to 
manage  it  again.  They've  been  offered  a  lot  of  money  for  it 
^y  some  Orleans  people,  and  Gertrude  wants  it  settled. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  201 

Aunt  Sajane  is  going  to  stay  until  they  all  come  to  the 
Pines." 

"If  Judge  Clarkson  should  be  going  to  Savannah  you 
could  send  your  maid  in  his  charge,  since  she  is  determined 
to  leave  us,"  suggested  Mrs.  McVeigh. 

"She  would,  no  doubt,  be  delighted  to  go  under  such  es 
cort,"  said  Judithe,  "but  her  arrangements  are  made  to  start 
early  in  the  morning;  it  is  not  likely  your  friend  would  be 
leaving  so  soon.  Then,  madamoiselle  has  said  she  is  not 
sure  but  that  it  is  to  some  other  place  he  goes." 

"Columbia? — yes;  and  more  than  likely  it  is  Columbia," 
assented  Mrs.  McVeigh.  "He  is  there  a  great  deal  during 
these  troublous  times." 

A  slight  sigh  accompanied  the  words,  and  Judithe  noticed, 
as  she  had  done  often  before,  the  lack  of  complaint  or  be- 
wailings  of  the  disasters  so  appalling  to  the  South,  for  even 
the  victories  were  so  dearly  bought.  There  was  an  intense 
eagerness  for  news  from  the  front,  and  when  it  was  read, 
the  tears  were  silent  ones.  The  women  smiled  bravely  and 
were  sure  of  victory  in  the  end.  Their  faith  in  their  men  was 
adorable. 

Evilena  undertook  to  show  the  Marquise  around  the  Ter 
race,  eagerly  anxious  to  become  better  acquainted  with  the 
stranger  whose  beauty  had  won  her  quite  as  quickly  as  it 
had  won  her  brother.  Looking  at  her,  and  listening  to  the 
soft  tones  with  the  delicious  accent  of  France,  she  wondered 
if  Ken  had  ever  really  dared  to  fall  in  love  with  this  star  from 
a  foreign  sky,  or  if  Dr.  Delaven  had  only  been  teasing  her. 
Of  course  one  could  not  help  the  loving;  but  brave  as  she 
believed  Ken  to  be,  she  wondered  if  he  had  ever  dared  even 
whisper  of  it  to  Judithe,  Marquise  de  Caron ;  for  she  refused 
to  think  of  her  as  simply  Madame  Caron  even  though  she 
did  have  to  say  it.  The  courtesy  shown  to  her  own  demo- 


202  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

cratic  country  by  the  disclaiming  of  titles  was  altogether 
thrown  away  on  Evilena,  and  she  comforted  herself  by  whis 
pering  softly  the  given  name  Zhu-dette — Zhudette,  delighted 
to  find  that  the  French  could  make  of  the  stately  name  a 
musical  one  as  well. 

Raquel  came  breathlessly  to  them  on  the  lawn  with  the 
information  that  "Mistress  McVeigh  ast  them  to  please  come 
in  de  house  right  off  case  that  maid  lady,  Miss  Weesa,  she 
done  slip  on  stairs  an'  hurt  her  foot  powerful." 

"Thanks,  yes ;  I  will  come  at  once,"  said  Miss  Weesa's 
mistress  in  so  clear  and  even  a  tone  that  Evilena,  who  was 
startled  at  the  news,  was  oppressed  by  a  sudden  fear  that  all 
the  warmth  in  the  nature  of  her  fascinating  Marquise  was 
centered  in  the  luminous  golden  brown  eyes. 

As  Judithe  followed  the  servant  into  the  house  there  came 
a  swift  remembrance  of  those  lamentable  presentiments. 
Was  there,  after  all,  something  in  the  blood  akin  to  the 
prescience  through  which  birds  and  wild  things  scent  the 
coming  storms? — some  atavism  outgrown  by  the  people  of 
intellectual  advancement,  but  yet  a  power  to  the  children  of 
the  near  sun  ? 

Miss  Louisa's  foot  certainly  was  hurt ;  it  had  been  twisted 
by  a  fall  on  the  stairs,  and  the  ankle  refused  to  bear  the 
weight ;  the  attempt  to  step  on  it  caused  her  such  agony  that 
she  had  called  for  help,  and  the  entire  household  had  re 
sponded. 

It  was  Pluto  who  reached  her  first,  lifting  her  in  his  arms 
and  carrying  her  to  a  bed.  She  had  almost  fainted  from 
pain  or  fright,  and  when  she  opened  her  eyes  again  it  was 
to  meet  those  of  her  mistress  in  one  wild  appeal.  Pluto 
had  not  moved  after  placing  her  on  the  bed,  though  the  other 
darkies  had  retired  into  the  hall,  and  Judithe's  first  impres 
sion  of  the  scene  was  the  huge  black  eyes  fairly  devouring 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  203 

the  girl's  face  with  his  curious  gaze.  He  stepped  back  as 
Mrs.  McVeigh  entered  with  camphor  and  bandages,  but  he 
saw  that  pleading,  frightened  glance. 

"Never  mind,  Louise,  it  will  all  be  well,"  said  her  mistress, 
soothingly ;  "this  has  happened  before,"  she  added,  turning 
to  Mrs.  McVeigh.  "It  needs  stout  bandages  and  perfect 
rest ;  in  a  week  it  will  be  forgotten." 

"A  week ! — moaned  the  girl  with  pale  lips,  "but  tomorrow 
— I  must  go  tomorrow !" 

"Patience,  patience !  You  shall  so  soon  as  you  are  able, 
Louise,  and  the  less  you  fret  the  sooner  that  may  be." 

Judithe  herself  knelt  by  the  bed  and  removed  tenderly  the 
coquettish  shoe  of  soft  kid,  and,  to  the  horror  of  the  assem 
bled  maids  at  the  door,  deliberately  cut  off  the  silk  stocking, 
over  which  their  wonder  had  been  aroused  when  the  short 
skirts  of  Louise  had  made  visible  those  superfine  articles. 
The  pieces  of  stocking,  needless  to  say,  were  captured  as 
souvenirs  and  for  many  a  day  shown  to  the  scoffers  of 
neighboring  plantations,  who  doubted  the  "wild  tales  of  lux 
ury  ascribed  to  the  foreign  magnate  whose  servants  were 
even  dressed  like  sure  enough  ladies. 

"We  must  bandage  it  to  keep  down  the  swelling,"  said 
Judithe,  working  deftly  as  she  spoke ;  "it  happened  once  in 
New  Orleans — this,  and  though  painful,  is  not  really 
serious,  but  she  is  so  eager  to  commence  the  refurnishing  of 
the  yacht  that  she  laments  even  a  day's  delay. 

Louise  did  not  speak  again — only  showed  by  a  look  her 
comprehension  of  the  statement,  and  bore  patiently  the 
binding  of  the  ankle. 

It  was  three  days  before  she  could  move  about  the  room 
with  help  of  a  cane,  and  during  those  days  of  feverish 
anxiety  her  mistress  had  an  opportunity  to  observe  the  very 
pointed  and  musical  interest  Pluto  showed  in  the  invalid 


204  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

whose  language  he  could  not  speak.  He  was  seldom  out  of 
hearing  of  her  call  and  was  plainly  disturbed  when  word 
came  from  Loringwood  that  the  folks  would  all  be  over  in 
a  few  days.  He  even  ventured  to  ask  Evilena  if  Mr.  Loring's 
eyesight  hadn't  failed  some  since  his  long*  sickness,  and  was 
well  satisfied,  apparently,  by  an  affirmative  reply.  He  even 
went  so  far  as  to  give  Louise  a  slight  warning,  which  she 
repeated  to  her  mistress  one  day  after  the  Judge  and  Dela- 
ven  had  called,  and  Louise  had  promptly  gone  to  bed  and  to 
sleep,  professing  herself  too  well  now  for  a  doctor's  atten 
tion. 

"Pluto  is  either  trying  to  lay  a  trap  for  me  to  see  if  I  do 
know  English,  or  else  he  is  better  informed  than  we  guess — 
which  it  is,  I  cannot  say,  Marquise,"  she  confided,  ner 
vously.  "When  he  heard  his  mistress  say  I  was  to  start 
Thursday,  he  watched  his  chance  and  whispered :  'Go 
Wednesday — don't  wait  till  visitors  come,  go  Wednesday." 

"Visitors? — then  he  means  the  Lorings,  they  are  to  be 
here  Thursday,"  and  Judithe  closed  the  book  she  had  been 
reading,  and  looked  thoughtfully  out  of  the  window.  Louise 
was  moving  about  the  room  with  the  aid  of  a  cane,  glancing 
at  her  mistress  now  and  then  and  waiting  to  hear  her  opin 
ion. 

"I  believe  I  would  take  his  advice,  Louise,"  she  said  at 
last.  "I  have  not  noticed  the  man  much  beyond  the  fact 
that  he  has  been  wonderfully  attentive  to  your  wants.  What 
do  you  think  of  him — or  of  his  motives  ?" 

"I  believe  they  are  good,"  said  the  girl,  promptly.  "He 
is  dissatisfied ;  I  can  see  that — one  of  the  insurrection  sort 
who  are  always  restless.  He's  entirely  bound  up  in  the  issue 
of  the  war,  as  regards  his  own  people.  He  suspects  me  and 
because  he  suspects  me  tries  to  warn  me — to  be  my  friend. 
When  I  am  gone  you  may  need  some  one  here,  and  of  all 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  205 

I  see  he  is  the  one  to  be  most  trusted,  though,  perhaps,  Dr. 
Delaven — " 

"Is  out  of  the  question,"  and  Judithe's  decision  was  em 
phatic.  "These  people  are  his  friends." 

"They  are  yours,  too,  Marquise,"  said  the  girl,  smiling 
a  little ;  but  no  smile  answered  her,  a  slight  shade  of  annoy 
ance — a  tiny  frown — bent  the  dark  brows. 

"Yes,  I  remember  that  sometimes,  but  I  possess  an  anti 
dote,"  she  replied,  lightly.  "You  know — or  perhaps  you  do 
not  know — that  it  is  counted  a  virtue  in  a  Gypsy  to  deceive 
a  Georgio — well,  I  am  fancying  myself  a  Gypsy.  In  the 
Mohammedan  it  is  a  virtue  to  deceive  the  Christian,  and  I 
am  a  Mohammedan  for  the  moment.  In  the  Christian  it 
was  counted  for  centuries  a  mark  of  special  grace  if  he  de 
spoil  the  Jew,  until  generations  of  oppression  showed  the 
wanderer  the  real  God  held  sacred  by  his  foes — money,  my 
child,  which  he  proceeded  to  garner  that  he  might  purchase 
the  privileges  of  other  races.  So,  with  my  Jewish  name 
as  a  foundation,  I  have  created  an  imaginary  Jewish  an- 
cester  whose  wrongs  I  take  up  against  the  people  of  a 
Christian  land ;  I  add  all  this  debt  to  the  debt  Africa  owes 
this  enlightened  nation,  and  I  shall  help  to  pay  it." 

The  eyes  of  Louise  widened  at  this  fantastical  reason.  She 
was  often  puzzled  to  determine  whether  the  Marquise  was 
entirely  serious,  or  only  amusing  herself  with  wild  fancies 
when  she  touched  on  pondrous  questions  with  gay  mockery. 

Just  now  she  laughed  as  she  read  dismay  in  the  maid's 
face. 

"Oh,  it  is  quite  true,  Louise,  it  is  a  Christian  land — and 
more,  it  is  the  most  Christian  portion  of  a  Christian  land, 
because  the  South  is  entirely  orthodox;  only  in  the  North 
will  you  find  a  majority  of  skeptics,  atheists,  and  agnostics. 
Though  they  may  be  scarcely  conscious  of  it  themselves. 

14 


206  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

it  is  because  of  their  independent  heterodox  tendencies  that 
they  are  marching  today  by  thousands  to  war  against  a  slav 
ery  not  their  own — the  most  righteous  motive  for  a  war  in  the 
world's  history ;  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  are  making 
war  against  an  eminently  Christian  institution."  And  she 
smiled  across  at  Louise,  whose  philosophy  did  not  extend 
to  the  intricacies  of  such  questions. 

"I  don't  understand  even  half  the  reasons  back  of  the 
war,"  she  confessed,  "but  the  thing  I  do  understand  is  that 
the  black  man  is  likely  to  have  a  chance  for  freedom  if  the 
North  wins,  and  that's  the  one  question  to  me.  Miss  Evilena 
said  yesterday  it  was  all  a  turmoil  got  up  by  Yankee  politi 
cians  who  will  fill  their  pockets  by  it." 

"Oh,  that  was  after  Judge  Clarkson's  call ;  she  only  quoted 
him  in  that,  and  he  is  right  in  a  way,"  she  added ;  "there  is 
a  great  deal  of  political  jugglery  there  without  a  vestige  of 
patriotism  in  it,  but  they  do  not  in  the  least  represent  the 
great  heart  of  the  people  of  the  North ;  they  are  essentially 
humanitarians.  So  you  see  I  weigh  all  this,  with  my  head, 
not  my  heart,"  she  added,  quizzically,  "and  having  done  so — 
having  chosen  my  part — I  can't  turn  back  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy,  even  when  met  by  smiles,  though  I  confess  they  are 
hard  weapons  to  face.  It  is  a  battle  where  the  end  to  be 
gained  justifies  the  methods  used." 

"Ma  belle,  Marquise,"  murmured  the  girl,  in  the  untrans 
latable  caress  of  voice  and  eyes.  "Sometimes  I  grow  afraid, 
and  you  scatter  the  fear  by  your  own  fearlessness.  Some 
times  I  grow  weak,  and  you  strengthen  me  with  reasons, 
reasons,  reasons !" 

"That  is  because  the  heart  is  not  allowed  to  hamper  the 
head." 

"Oh,  you  tease  me.  You  speak  to  me  like  a  guardian 
angel  of  my  people ;  your  voice  is  like  a  trumpet,  it  stirs 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  207 

echoes  in  my  heart,  and  the  next  minute  you  laugh  as 
though  it  were  all  a  play,  and  I  were  a  child  to  be  amused." 

"  'And  each  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts,'  "  quoted 
Judithe,  thoughtfully,  then  with  a  mocking  glance  she 
added :  "But  not  so  many  as  women  do." 

"There — that  is  what  I  mean.  One  moment  you  are  all 
seriousness  and  the  next — " 

"But,  my  child,  it  is  criminal  to  be  serious  all  the  time ;  it 
kills  the  real  life  and  leads  to  melancholia.  You  would  grow 
morbid  through  your  fears  if  I  did  not  laugh  at  them  some 
times,  and  it  would  never — never  do  for  me  to  approve 
them." 

She  touched  the  girl's  hand  softly  with  her  own  and 
looked  at  her  with  a  certain  affectionate  chiding. 

"You  are  going  away  from  me,  Louise,  and  you  must 
not  go  in  dread  or  despondency.  It  may  not  be  for  long, 
perhaps,  but  even  if  it  should  be,  you  must  remember  that 
I  love  you — I  trust  you.  I  pity  you  for  the  childhood  and 
youth  whose  fate  was  no  choice  of  yours.  Never  forget  my 
trust  in  you ;  when  we  are  apart  it  may  comfort  you  to  re 
member  it." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  with  wide  black  eyes,  into  which 
the  tears  crept. 

"Marquise,"  she  whispered,  "you  talk  as  if  you  might  be 
sending  me  away  for  always.  Oh,  Marquise — " 

Judithe  raised  her  hand  warningly. 

"Be  a  soldier,  child,"  she  said,  softly,  "each  time  we  sep 
arate  for  even  a  day — you  and  I — we  do  not  know  that  we 
will  ever  meet  again.  These  are  war  times,  you  know." 

"I  know — but  I  never  dreaded  a  separation  so  much ;  I 
wish  you  were  not  to  remain.  Perhaps  that  Plutos'  words 
made  me  more  nervous — it  is  so  hard  to  tell  how  much  he 
guesses,  and  those  people — the  Lorings — " 


208  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  manage 'the  Lorings,"  said  her 
mistress,  with  a  reassuring  smile,  "even  the  redoubtable 
Matthew — the  tyrannical  terror  of  the  county ;  so  cheer  up, 
Louise.  Even  the  longest  parting  need  only  be  a  lifetime, 
and  I  should  find  you  at  the  end  of  it." 

"And  find  me  still  your  slave,"  said  the  girl,  looking  at 
her  affectionately.  "That's  a  sort  of  comfort  to  think,  Mar 
quise  ;  I'm  glad  you  said  it.  I'll  think  of  it  until  me  meet 
again." 

She  repeated  it  Wednesday  morning  when  she  entered  the 
boat  for  the  first  stage  of  her  journey  to  Savannah,  and  the 
Marquise  nodded  her  comprehension,  murmured  kindly 
words  of  adieu,  and  watched  the  little  vessel  until  a  bend 
in  the  river  hid  it  from  view,  when  she  walked  slowly  back 
to  the  house.  Since  her  arrival  in  America  this  was  the 
first  time  she  had  been  separated  from  the  devoted  girl  for 
more  than  a  day,  and  she  realized  the  great  loss  it  would 
be  to  her,  though  she  knew  it  to  be  an  absolutely  necessary 
one. 

As  for  Louise,  she  watched  to  the  last  the  slight  elevation 
of  the  Terrace  grounds  rising  like  an  island  of  green  from 
the  level  lands  by  the  river.  When  it  finally  disappeared — 
barred  out  by  the  nearer  green  of  drooping  branches,  she 
wept  silently,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  went  downward  to 
Pocotaligo,  oppressed  by  the  seemingly  groundless  fear 
that  some  unknown  evil  threatened  herself  or  the  Marquise 
— the  dread  lest  they  never  meet  again. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  209 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"Hurrah!    Hurrah!  for  Southern  rights  Hurrah! 
Hurrah !  for  the  bonney  blue  flag, 
That  bears  the  single  star !" 

Evilena  was  singing  this  stirring  ditty  at  the  top  of  her 
voice,  a  very  sweet  voice  when  not  overtaxed,  but  Dilsey, 
the  cook,  put  both  hands  to  her  ears  and  vowed  cooking 
school  would  close  at  once  if  that  "yapping"  was  not 
stopped;  she  could  not  for  the  life  of  her  see  why  Miss 
Lena  would  sing  that  special  song  so  powerful  loud. 

"Why,  Dilsey,  it  is  my  shout  of  defiance,"  explained 
the  girl,  stirring  vigorously  at  a  mass  in  a  wooden  bowl 
which  she  fondly  hoped  would  develop  into  cookies  for  that 
evening's  tea,  when  the  party  from  Loringwood  were  ex 
pected.  "It  does  not  reach  very  far,  but  I  comfort  myself 
by  saying  it  good  and  loud,  anyway.  That  Yankee  general 
who  has  marched  his  followers  into  Orleans  fines  every 
body — even  if  its  a  lady — who  sings  that  song.  I  can't  make 
him  hear  me  that  far  off,  but  I  do  my  best." 

"Good  Lawd  knows  you  does,"  agreed  Dilsey.  "But 
when  you  want  to  sing  in  this  heah  cookhouse  I  be  'bleeged 
if  yo'  fine  some  song  what  ain't  got  no  battles  in  it.  Praise 
the  Lawd,  we  fur  'nough  away  so  that  Yankee  can't  trouble 
we  all." 

"Madam  Caron  saw  him  once,"  said  the  amateur  cook> 
tasting  a  bit  of  the  sweetened  dough  with  apparent  pleas- 


210  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ure,  "but  she  left  Orleans  quick,  after  the  Yankees  came. 
Of  course  it  wouldn't  be  a  place  for  a  lady,  then.  She  shut 
her  house  up  and  went  straight  to  Mobile,  and  I  just  love 
her  for  it." 

"Seems  to  me  like  she  jest  'bout  witched  yo'  all,"  re 
marked  Dilsey ;  "every  blessed  nigger  in  the  house  go  fallen' 
ovah  theyselves  when  her  bell  rings,  fo'  feah  they  won't  git 
thah  fust ;  an'  Pluto,  he  like  to  be  no  use  to  any  one  till  aftah 
her  maid,  Miss  Louise,  get  away,  he  jest  waited  on  her,  han' 
an'  foot." 

Dilsey  had  heretofore  been  the  very  head  and  front  of  im 
portance  in  the  servants'  quarters  on  that  plantation,  and 
it  was  apparent  that  she  resented  the  comparative  grandeur 
of  the  Marquise's  maid,  and  especially  resented  it  because 
her  fellow  servants  bowed  down  and  paid  enthusiastic  trib 
ute  to  the  new  divinity. 

"Well,  Dilsey,  I'm  sure  she  needed  waiting  on  hand  and 
foot  while  she  was  so  crippled.  I  know  mama  was  mighty 
well  pleased  he  was  so  attentive ;  reckon  maybe  that's  why 
she  let  him  go  riding  with  Madame  Caron  this  morning." 

"Pluto,  he  think  plenty  o'  hisself  'thout  so  much  pam- 
peren,"  grumbled  Dilsey.  "Seem  like  he  counted  the  whole 
'pendence  o'  the  family  since  Mahs  Ken  gone." 

Evilena  prudently  refrained  from  expressing  an  opinion 
on  the  subject,  though  she  clearly  perceived  that  Dilsey 
was  possessed  of  a  fit  of  jealousy ;  so  she  proceeded  to  flatter 
the  old  soul  into  a  more  sunny  humor  lest  dinner  should 
go  awry  in  some  way,  more  particularly  as  regarded  the 
special  dishes  to  which  her  own  little  hands  had  added  in 
terest. 

She  was  yet  in  the  cookhouse  when  the  guests  arrived, 
and  doffing  the  huge  apron  in  which  she  was  enveloped, 
skurried  into  the  house,  carrying  with  her  the  fragrance 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  211 

of  cinnamon  and  sweet  spices,  while  a  dust  of  flour  on  curls 
and  chin  gave  her  a  novel  appearance,  and  the  confession 
that  she  had  been  cooking  was  not  received  with  the  accla 
mation  she  had  expected,  though  there  was  considerable 
laughter  about  it.  No  one  appeared  to  take  the  statement 
seriously  except  Matthew  Loring,  who  took  it  seriously 
enough  to  warn  Margeret  he  would  expect  her  to  supervise 
all  dishes  he  was  to  partake  of.  His  meals  were  affairs  not 
to  be  trifled  with. 

Margeret  and  Ben  had  accompanied  the  party.  Others 
of  the  more  reliable  house  servants  of  Loringwood,  were  to 
commence  work  at  once  at  the  Pines,  and  Gertrude  was 
almost  enthusiastic  over  the  change. 

"You  folks  really  live  over  here,"  she  declared  to  Mrs. 
McVeigh,  "while  at  Loringwood — well,  they  tell  me  life  used 
to  be  very  gay  there — but  I  can't  remember  the  time.  It 
seems  to  me  that  since  the  day  they  carried  papa  in  from 
his  last  hunting  field  the  place  has  been  under  a  cloud.  Noth 
ing  prospers  there,  nobody  laughs  or  sings ;  I  can't  be  fond 
if  it,  and  I  am  so  glad  to  get  away  from  it  again." 

"Still,  it  is  a  magnificent  estate,"  said  Mrs.  McVeigh, 
thoughtfully;  "the  associations  of  the  past — the  history  of 
your  family — is  so  intimately  connected  with  it,  I  should 
think  you  would  be  sorry  to  part  with  it." 

"I  should  not!"  said  Gertrude,  promptly,  "the  money 
just  now  would  do  me  a  great  deal  more  good  than  family 
records  of  extravagance  which  all  the  Lorings  but  Uncle 
Matthew  seem  to  have  been  addicted  to ;  and  he  is  the  exact 
opposite,  you  know." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  did  know.  She  remembered  hearing  of 
him  as  a  one-time  gamester  long  ago  in  New  Orleans,  a 
man  without  the  conviviality  of  his  father  or  his  brother 
Tom;  a  man  who  spent  money  in  dissipations  purely  sel- 


212  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

fish,  carrying  the  spirit  of  a  speculator  even  into  his  pursuit 
of  social  enjoyment.  Then,  all  at  once,  he  came  back  to 
Loringwood,  settled  down  and  became  a  model  in  deport 
ment  and  plantation  management,  so  close  a  calculator  of 
dimes  as  well  as  dollars  that  it  was  difficult  to  believe  he 
ever  had  squandered  a  penny,  and  a  great  many  people 
refused  to  credit  those  ancient  Orleans  stories  at  all.  Ken 
neth's  father  was  one  of  them. 

"I  don't  believe  I  am  very  much  of  a  Loring,  anyway," 
continued  Gertrude  with  a  little  sigh.  "They  were  a  wild, 
reckless  lot  so  far  back  as  I  can  learn,  and  I — well,  you 
couldn't  call  me  wild  and  reckless,  could  you  ?" 

Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  at  the  query  and  shook  her  head. 
"Not  the  least  little  bit,  and  we  are  glad  of  it."  She  walked 
over  to  the  window  looking  across  the  far  fields  where  the 
road  showed  a  glimpse  of  itself  as  it  wound  by  the  river.  "I 
thought  I  saw  some  one  on  horseback  over  there,  and  every 
horseman  coming  our  way  is  of  special  interest  just  now.  I 
look  for  word  from  Kenneth  daily — if  not  for  the  boy 
himself ;  he  has  had  time  to  be  home  now.  His  stay  has  al 
ready  been  longer  than  he  expected." 

Gertrude  joined  her  and  gave  her  attention  to  the  head 
of  the  road. 

"It  may  be  your  visitor  from  France,  Evilena  said  she 
had  gone  riding.  Of  course  you  know  we  are  all  eager  to 
meet  her.  Dr.  Delaven  sings  her  praises  to  us  until  it  has 
become  tantalizing." 

"We  should  have  driven  over  to  see  you  but  for  that  acci 
dent  to  her  maid — the  poor  thing,  except  a  few  words, 
could  only  speak  her  own  language,  and  we  could  not  leave 
her  entirely  to  the  servants.  Madame  Caron  seemed  quite 
impressed  with  the  brief  glance  she  got  of  Loringwood,  and 
when  she  heard  it  was  likely  to  be  sold  she  asked  a  great 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  213 

many  interested  questions  concerning  it.  She  is  wealthy 
enough  to  humor  her  fancies,  and  her  latest  one  is  a  Caro 
lina  plantation  near  enough  to  water  for  her  yacht,  which 
Mobile  folks  say  is  the  most  beautiful  thing — and  the  Com- 
bahee  would  always  be  navigable  for  so  small  a  craft,  and  the 
Salkahatchie  for  most  of  the  year." 

"She  certainly  must  be  able  to  humor  any  sort  of  fancy 
if  she  keeps  a  yacht  of  her  own ;  that  will  be  a  new  departure 
for  a  woman  in  Carolina.  It  sounds  very  magnificent." 

"It  is ;  and  it  suits  her.  That  is  one  reason  why  I  thought 
she  might  be  the  very  best  possible  purchaser  for  Loring- 
wood.  She  would  resurrect  all  its  former  glories,  and  es 
tablish  new  ones." 

Matthew  Loring  entered  the  sitting  room,  moving  some 
what  haltingly  with  the  help  of  a  cane.  Gertrude  arranged 
a  chair  near  the  window,  in  which  he  seated  himself  slowly. 

"Do  you  feel  tired  after  the  ride,  Uncle?" 

"No,"  he  said,  fidgetting  with  the  cushion  back  of  his 
head,  and  failing  to  adjust  it  to  suit  him,  either  let  it  fall 
or  threw  it  on  the  floor,  Gertrude  replaced  it  without  a 
word,  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  smiled  quietly,  and  pretended  not 
to  see. 

"I  think  I  can  promise  yon  a  pleasant  visitor,  Mr.  Lor 
ing,"  she  remarked,  turning  from  the  window.  "A  gen 
tleman  just  turned  in  at  our  ga*e,  and  he  does  look  like 
Judge  Clarkson." 

Gertrude  left  the  room  to  join  the  others  who  were  talking 
and  laughing  in  the  arbor,  a  few  steps  across  the  lawn.  Mrs. 
McVeigh  busied  herself  cutting  some  yellowing  J eaves  from 
the  plants  on  the  stand  by  the  window.  Loring  watched  her 
with  a  peculiar  peering  gaze.  His  failing  sight  caused  him 
to  pucker  his  brows  in  a  frown  when  he  desired  to  inspect 
anything  intently,  and  it  was  that  regard  he  was  now  di- 


214  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

reeling  toward  Mrs.  McVeigh,  who  certainly  was  worth 
looking  at  by  any  man. 

The  dainty  lace  cap  she  wore  had  tiny  bows  of  violet 
showing  among  the  lace,  and  it  someway  had  the  effect  of 
making  her  appear  more  youthful  instead  of  adding  matron- 
liness.  The  lawn  she  wore  had  violet  lines  through  it,  and 
the  flowing  sleeves  had  undersleeves  of  sheer  white  gathered 
at  the  wrist.  The  wide  lace  collar  circled  a  throat  scarcely 
less  white,  and  altogether  made  a  picture  worth  study, 
though  Matthew  Loring's  view  of  it  was  rather  blurred  be 
cause  of  the  failure  of  vision  which  he  denied  whenever 
opportunity  offered ;  next  to  paralysis  there  was  nothing 
he  dreaded  so  much  as  blindness,  and  even  to  Delaven  he 
denied — uselessly — any  tendency  in  that  direction. 

"Hum !"  he  grunted,  at  last,  with  a  cynical  smile ;  "if  Gid 
Clarkson  keeps  up  his  habit  of  visiting  you  regularly,  as  he 
has  done  for  the  past  ten  years,  you  ought  to  know  him  a 
mile  away  by  this  time." 

"Oh !" — Mrs.  McVeigh  was  refastening  her  brooch  before 
the  mirror,  "not  ten  years,  quite." 

"Well,  long  enough  to  be  refused  three  times  to  my  certain 
knowledge ;  why,  he  doesn't  deny  it — proud  to  let  the  coun 
try  know  his  devotion  to  the  most  charming  of  her  sex," 
and  he  gave  an  ironical  little  nod  for  which  she  exchanged 
one  of  her  sweetest  smiles. 

"Glad  you  looked  at  me  when  you  said  that,"  she  re 
marked,  lightly ;  "and  we  do  depend  on  Judge  Clarkson  so 
much  these  days  I  don't  know  what  I  ever  would  do  if  his 
devotion  dwindled  in  the  least.  But  I  fancy  his  visit  this 
morning  is  on  your  account  instead  of  mine." 

At  that  moment  the  white  hat  of  Clarkson  could  be  seen 
above  the  veranda  railing,  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  threw  open 
the  glass  doors  as  he  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  steps  with  an 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  215 

immense  boquet  held  with  especial  care — the  Judge's  one 
hobby  in  the  realm  of  earth-grown  things  was  flowers. 

He  bowed  when  he  caught  sight  of  the  mistress  of  the 
Terrace,  who  bestowed  on  him  a  quaint  courtesy  such  as 
the  good  nuns  of  Orleans  taught  their  pupils  thirty  years  be 
fore,  she  also  extended  her  hand,  which  he  kissed — an  addi 
tion  to  fine  manners  the  nuns  had  omitted — probably  they 
knew  how  superfluous  such  training  would  be,  all  Southern 
girls  being  possessed  of  that  knowledge  by  right  of  birth. 

"Good  morning,  Judge." 

"Mistress  McVeigh !"  Loring  uttered  an  inarticulate  ex 
clamation  which  was  first  cousin  to  a  grunt,  as  the  Judge's 
tone  reached  his  ear,  and  the  profound  bow  was  robbed  of  its 
full  value  by  the  Judge  straightening,  and  glancing  side 
ways. 

"My  delight,  Madame,  at  being  invited  over  this  morning 
is  only  to  be  expressed  in  the  silent  language  of  the  blossoms 
I  bring.  You  will  honor  me  by  accepting  them  ?" 

"With  very  great  pleasure,  Judge ;  here  is  Mr.  Loring." 

"Heartily  pleased  to  see  you  have  arrived,"  and  the  Judge 
moved  over  and  shook  hands.  "I  came  within  bowing  dis 
tance  of  Miss  Gertrude  as  I  entered,  so  I  presume  she  has 
induced  you  to  come  over  to  the  Pines  for  good.  Your 
position,  Mr.  Loring,  is  one  to  be  envied  in  that  respect. 
Your  hours  are  never  lonely  for  lack  of  womanly  grace  and 
beauty  in  your  household ;"  he  glanced  at  Mrs.  McVeigh, 
who  was  arranging  the  flowers  in  a  vase,  "I  envy  you,  sir,  I 
envy  you." 

"Oh,  Gertrude  is  well  enough,  though  we  don't  unite 
to  spoil  each  other  with  flattering  demonstrations,"  and  he 
smiled  cynically  at  the  other  two,  and  peered  quizzically  at 
Mrs.  McVeigh,  who  presented  him  with  a  crimson  beauty 
of  a  rose,  for  which  he  returned  a  very  gracious,  "Thank 


216  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

3rou,"  and  continued:  "Yes,  Gertrude's  a  very  good  girl, 
though  it's  a  pity  it  wasn't  a  boy,  instead,  who  came  into  the 
Loring  family  that  day  to  keep  up  the  old  name.  And 
what  about  that  boy  of  yours,  Mistress  McVeigh?  When 
do  you  expect  him  home?" 

"Very  soon,  now.  His  last  message  said  they  hoped  to 
reach  Charleston  by  the  twentieth — so  you  see  the  time  is 
short.  I  am  naturally  intensely  anxious — the  dread  of  that 
blockade  oppresses  me." 

"No  need,  no  need,"  and  Loring's  tone  was  decided  and 
reassuring.  "We  got  out  through  it,  and  back  through  it, 
and  never  a  Yankee  in  sight;  and  those  men  on  a  special 
commission  will  be  given  double  care,  you  may  be  sure." 

"Certainly ;  the  run  from  Nassau  has  kept  the  mail  service 
open  almost  without  a  break,"  assented  Clarkson,  "and  we 
have  little  reason  for  anxiety  now  that  the  more  doubtful 
part  of  the  undertaking  has  been  successfully  arranged." 

"Most  successfully;  he  writes  that  the  English  treat  our 
people  with  extreme  consideration,  and  heartily  approve  our 
seceding." 

"Of  course  they  do,  and  why  shouldn't  they?"  demanded 
Loring.  "I  tell  you,  they  would  do  much  more  than  give  si 
lent  sympathy  to  our  cause  if  it  were  not  that  Russia  has 
chosen  to  send  her  warships  into  Yankee  harbors  just  now 
on  guard  against  the  interference  of  any  of  our  friends,  es 
pecially  against  Great  Britain's  interference,  which  would 
be  most  certain  and  most  valuable." 

"Quite  true,  quite  true,"  assented  the  Judge,  with  a  sooth 
ing  tone,  calculated  to  allay  any  combative  or  excited  mood 
concerning  that  or  any  other  subject ;  "but  even  their  moral 
support  has  been  a  wonderful  help,  my  dear  sir,  and  the 
securing  of  an  important  addition  to  our  navy  from  them 
just  now  means  a  very  great  deal  I  assure  you ;  once  let  us 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  217 

gain  a  foothold  in  the  North — get  into  Washington — and 
she  will  be  the  first  to  acknowledge  us  as  a  power — a  sov 
ereign  power,  sir !" 

"I  don't  understand  the  political  reasons  of  things,"  con 
fessed  their  hostess,  "but  I  fear  Kenneth  has  imbibed  the 
skepticism  of  the  age  since  these  years  of  military  associa 
tions;  he  suggests  that  England's  motive  is  really  not  for 
our  advantage  so  much  as  her  own.  I  dislike  to  have  my  illu 
sions  dispelled  in  that  respect ;  yet  I  wonder  if  it  is  all  com 
mercialism  on  their  part." 

"Most  assuredly,"  said  the  Judge.  "England's  policy  has 
always  been  one  of  selfishness  where  our  country  was  con 
cerned.  We  must  not  forget  she  was  the  bitterest  foe  of 
our  fathers.  She  has  been  sent  home  from  our  shores  badly 
whipped  too  often  to  feel  much  of  the  brotherly  love  she  ef 
fects  just  now  for  her  own  purposes.  We  must  not  expect 
anything  else.  She  is  of  help  to  us  now  for  purposes  of 
revenue,  only,  and  we  will  have  to  pay  heavy  interest  for  all 
favors.  The  only  thought  of  comfort  to  us  in  the  matter  is 
that  our  cause  is  worth  paying  that  interest  for." 

Loring  acknowledged  the  truth  of  the  statements,  and 
Mrs.  McVeigh  sighed  to  think  of  the  duplicity  of  the  nation 
she  had  fancied  single-hearted.  And  to  a  woman  of  her 
trustful  nature  it  was  a  shock  to  learn  that  the  British  policy 
contained  really  none  of  the  sweetly  domestic  and  fraternal 
spirit  so  persistently  advertised. 

To  change  the  conversation  the  Judge  produced  a  letter 
just  received — a  proposal  for  Loringwood  at  Mr.  Loring's 
own  price. 

"Already  ?"  asked  Mrs.  McVeigh ;  and  Loring,  who  real 
ized  that  his  own  price  was  a  remarkably  high  one,  showed 
surprise  at  the  ready  acceptance  of  it. 


218  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"The  offer  is  made  by  a  law  firm  in  New  Orleans,  Hart 
&  Logan,"  continued  Clarkson.  "But  the  real  purchaser  is 
evidently  some  client  of  theirs." 

"Well,  I  certainly  hope  the  client  will  prove  a  pleasant 
personage  if  he  is  to  locate  at  Loringwood,"  remarked  Mrs. 
McVeigh.  "Some  one  in  New  Orleans  ?  Possibly  we  know 
them." 

"I  am  led  to  believe  that  the  property  is  desired  for  some 
educational  institution,"  said  Clarkson,  handing  the  letter 
to  Loring,who  could  not  decipher  two  lines  of  the  fine  script, 
but  refrained  from  acknowledging  it. 

"I  must  say  the  offer  pleases  me  greatly."  He  nodded  his 
head  and  uttered  a  sigh  of  satisfaction ;  "a  school  or  semi 
nary,  no  doubt,  I  like  that ;  so  will  Gertrude.  Speak  to  her, 
and  then  write  or  telegraph  the  acceptance,  as  they  prefer. 
This  is  remarkably  quick  work ;  I  feared  it  would  be  a  long 
while  before  a  purchaser  could  be  found.  This  is  most  for 
tunate." 

"Then  I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Loring,"  said  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  who  was  grateful  to  the  Judge  for  bringing  news 
likely  to  make  the  entertainment  of  the  invalid  an  easier 
affair.  "But  your  fortunate  offer  from  New  Orleans  dispels 
a  hope  I  had  that  my  friend,  Madame  Caron,  might  buy  it. 
She  seemed  quite  impressed  with  it.  I  was  just  saying  so 
to  Gertrude." 

"Yes,  we've  all  been  hearing  considerable  about  this 
charming  foreigner  of  yours,  who  is  daring  enough  to  cross 
to  a  war-ridden  country  to  pay  visits." 

"She  owns  a  fine  property  in  New  Orleans,  but  left  there 
in  disgust  when  the  Yankees  took  possession.  I  was  de 
lighted  to  find  her  in  Mobile,  and  persuaded  her  to  come 
along  and  see  plantation  life  in  our  country.  We  met  her 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  219 

first  in  Paris — Kenneth  and  I.  He  will  be  delightfully  sur 
prised  to  find  her  here." 

"No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  but  Loring's  assent  was  not  very 
hearty ;  he  remembered  those  first  comments  on  her  at  Lor- 
ingwood.  "Dr.  Delaven,  also,  was  among  her  Parisian  ac 
quaintances,  so  you  will  have  quite  a  foreign  colony  at  the 
Terrace." 

"I  was  much  pleased  with  that  fine  young  fellow,  Dr. 
Delaven,"  remarked  the  Judge,  "and  really  consider  you 
most  fortunate  to  secure  his  services — a  very  superior  young 
man,  and  possessed,  I  should  say,  of  very  remarkable  talent, 
and  of  too  gay  a  heart  to  be  weighed  down  with  the  import 
ance  of  such  special  knowledge,  as  is  too  often  the  case  in 
young  professional  men — yes,  sir;  a  very  bright  young 
man." 

Mrs.  McVeigh,  hearing  laughter,  had  stepped  out  on  the 
veranda,  and  smiled  in  sympathy  with  the  couple  who  ap 
peared  on  the  step.  The  very  talented  young  man  just 
mentioned  was  wreathed  in  blossoms  and  wild  vines ;  he  car 
ried  Aunt  Sajane's  parasol,  and  was  guided  by  reins  formed 
of  slender  vines  held  in  Miss  Evilena's  hands;  the  hat  he 
wore  was  literally  heaped  with  flowers,  and  he  certainly  did 
not  appear  to  be  weighed  by  the  importance  of  any  special 
knowledge  at  that  moment.  At  sight  of  the  Judge,  Evilena 
dropped  her  improvised  lines  and  ran  to  him. 

"Oh,  Judge,  it  is  right  kind  of  you  to  come  over  early 
today.  Aunt  Sajane  is  coming,  she  was  down  to  the  river 
with  us ;  she  laughed  too  much  to  walk  fast.  We  were  get 
ting  wild  flowers  for  decorating — and  here  is  Dr.  Del 
aven." 

"Yes,  I'm  one  of  the  things  she's  been  decorating,"  and 
he  entered  from  the  veranda,  shook  hands  with  Clarkson, 
and  stood  for  inspection.  "Don't  I  look  like  a  lamb  decked 


220  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

for  the  sacrifice?  But  faith  it  was  the  heart  of  a  lion  I  need 
ed  to  go  into  the  moccasin  dens  where  she  sent  me  this  day. 
The  blossoms  desired  by  your  daughter  were  sure  to  grow  in 
the  wildest  swamps." 

"I  didn't  suppose  a  bog-trotter  would  object  to  that," 
remarked  the  girl,  to  Loring's  decided  amusement. 

"Lena !"  and  at  the  look  of  horror  on  her  mother's  face 
she  fled  to  the  veranda. 

"Ah— Mrs.  McVeigh,  I'm  not  hurt  at  all,  but  if  she  had 
murthered  me  entirely  your  smile  would  give  me  new  life 
again ;  it's  a  guardian  angel  you  are  to  me." 

"You  do  need  assistance,"  she  replied,  endeavoring  to 
untwine  the  vines  twisted  about  his  shoulders,  "now  turn 
around." 

He  did,  spinning  in  top  fashion,  with  extended  arms,  while 
Evilena  smiled  at  the  Judge  from  the  window.  His  answer 
ing  smile  grew  somewhat  constrained  as  his  hostess  delib 
erately  put  her  pretty  arm  half  way  around  the  young 
man's  shoulder  in  her  efforts  to  untangle  him. 

"I  say,  Judge,  isn't  it  in  fine  luck  I  am? —  the  undoing  of 
Delaven !" 

But  the  Judge  did  not  respond.  He  grew  a  trifle  more 
ceremonious  as  he  turned  from  the  window. 

"Mistress  McVeigh,  I  shall  step  out  on  the  lawn  to  meet 
my  sister  and  Miss  Loring,  and  when  you  have  concluded 
your  present  task,  would  you  permit  me  to  see  the  autumn 
roses  you  were  cultivating  ?  As  a  lover  of  flowers  I  certainly 
have  an  interest  in  their  progress." 

"Autumn  roses — humph !"  and  Loring  smiled  in  a  grim 
way  only  discernible  to  Delaven,  who  had  grown  so  ac 
customed  to  his  sardonic  comments  on  things  in  general  that 
they  no  longer  caused  surprise. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  221 

"Of  course,  Judge;  I'll  show  them  to  you  myself,"  and 
Mrs.  McVeigh  let  fall  the  last  of  the  vines  and  joined  him 
at  the  window — "so  charming  of  you  to  remember  them 
at  all." 

"Don't  you  want  to  go  along  and  study  the  progress  of 
autumn  roses  ?"  asked  Evilena,  peering  around  the  window 
at  Delaven,  who  laughed  at  the  pretended  demureness  and 
timidity  with  which  she  invested  the  question. 

"Not  at  this  moment,  my  lady.  Autumn  roses,  indeed ! — 
while  there's  a  wild  flower  in  sight — not  for  the  O'Dela- 
vens !" 

And  the  O'Delaven's  bright  Irish  eyes  had  so  quizzical 
a  smile  in  them  the  girl  blushed  and  was  covered  with  con 
fusion  as  with  a  mantle,  and  gathering  the  blossoms  in  her 
arms  seated  herself  ostentatiously  close  to  Mr.  Loring's 
chair  while  she  arranged  them,  and  Delaven  might  content 
himself  with  a  view  of  one  pink  ear  and  a  delicious  dimple  in 
one  cheek,  which  he  contemplated  from  the  lounging  chair 
back  of  her,  and  added  to  his  occupation  by  humming,  very 
softly,  a  bit  of  the  old  song: 

"Ten  years  have  gone  by  and  I  have  not  a  dollar; 
Evilena  still  lives  in  that  green  grassy  hollow; 
And  though  I  am  fated  to  marry  her  never, 
I'm  sure  that  I'll  love  her  for  ever  and  ever!" 

"For  ever  and  ever!  I  say,  Miss  Evilena,  how  do  you 
suppose  the  fellow  in  the  song  could  be  so  dead  sure  of  him 
self,  for  ever  and  ever?" 

"Probably  he  wasn't  an  Irishman,"  suggested  the  girl, 
bending  lower  over  the  blossoms  that  he  might  not  see  her 
smiling. 

"Arrah,  now,  I  had  conjured  up  a  finer  reason  than  that 
entirely;  it  had  something  to  do  with  the  charms  of  your 

15 


222  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

namesake,  but  I'll  not  be  telling  you  of  it  while  you  carry 
a  nettle  on  your  tongue  to  sting  poor  harmless  wanderers 
with." 

His  pondrous  sigh  was  broken  in  on  by  her  laughter,  and 
the  beat  of  hoofs  on  the  drive.  While  they  looked  at  each 
other  questioningly  the  voice  of  Judifhe  was  heard  speak 
ing  to  Pluto,  and  then  humming  the  refrain  of  Evilena's 
favorite,  "Bonnie  Blue  Flag,"  she  ran  up  to  the  veranda 
where  Mrs.  McVeigh  met  her. 

"Oh,  what  a  glorious  gallop  I  had.  Good  morning,  Judge 
Clarkson.  How  glad  I  am  that  you  came  right  over  soon  as 
you  got  home.  You  are  to  us  a  recruit  from  the  world 
whom  we  depend  on  to  tell  us  all  about  doings  there,  and  it 
is  so  good  of  you." 

"It  argues  no  virtue  in  a  man,  Madame,  that  he  comes 
where  beauty  greets  him,"  and  the  Judge's  bow  was  a  com 
pliment  in  itself. 

"Charming — is  it  not,  Madame  McVeigh?  Truly  your 
Southern  men  are  the  most  delightful  in  the  world." 

"Ah,  Madame,"  and  Delaven  arose  from  his  chair  with  a 
lugubrious  countenance,  "for  how  am  I  to  forgive  you  for 
adopting  the  fancy  that  Ireland  is  out  of  the  world  entirely  ?" 

Judithe  laughed  frankly  and  put  out  her  hand;  she  was 
exceedingly  gay  and  gracious  that  morning;  there  was  a 
delightful  exhileration  in  her  manner,  and  it  was  contagious. 
Matthew  Loring  half  turned  in  his  chair  and  peered  out  at 
the  speaker  as  she  turned  to  Delaven. 

"Not  out  of  the  world  of  our  hearts,  Dr.  Delaven,  and 
for  yourself,  you  really  should  not  have  been  born  up  where 
the  snow  falls.  You  really  belong  to  the  South — we  need 
you  here." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  223 

"Faith,  it  was  only  a  little  encouragement  I  was  needing, 
Marquise.  I'll  ask  the  Judge  to  prepare  my  naturalization 
papers  in  the  morning." 

"Other  friends  have  arrived  during  your  ride,  Judithe," 
and  her  hostess  led  her  into  the  sitting  room.  "Allow  me  to 
present  our  neighbor,  Mr.  Loring,  of  the  Loringwood  you 
admired  so  greatly." 

"And  with  such  good  reason,"  said  Judithe,  with  gra 
cious  bend  of  her  head,  and  a  charming  smile.  "I  have 
looked  forward  to  meeting  you  for  some  time,  Mr.  Loririg, 
and  your  estate  really  appealed  to  me — it  is  magnificent. 
After  riding  past  it  I  was  conscious  of  coveting  my  neigh 
bor's  goods." 

"It  is  our  loss,  Madame,  that  you  did  ride  past,"  and 
Loring  really  made  an  effort  to  be  cordial  and  succeeded  bet 
ter  than  might  have  been  expected.  He  was  peering  at  her 
from  under  the  heavy  brows  very  intently,  but  she  was  out 
lined  against  the  flood  of  light  from  the  window,  and  it 
blurred  his  vision,  leaving  distinct  only  the  graceful,  erect 
form  in  its  dark  riding  habit.  "Had  you  entered  the  gates 
my  neice  would  have  been  delighted  to  entertain  you." 

"What  a  generous  return  for  my  envy,"  exclaimed  Judithe. 
"The  spirit  of  hospitality  seems  ever  abroad  in  your  land, 
Mr.  Loring." 

He  smiled,  well  pleased,  for  his  pride  in  his  own  country, 
his  own  state,  was  very  decided.  He  lifted  the  forgotten 
rose  from  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"I  will  have  to  depend  on  our  friend,  the  Judge,  to  pre 
sent  you  fine  phrases  in  return  for  that  pretty  speech, 
Madame;  I  can  only  offer  a  substitute,"  and  to  Evilena's 
wide-eyed  astonishment  he  actually  presented  the  rose  to 
the  Marquise.  , 


224  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"She  simply  has  bewitched  him,"  protested  the  girl  to 
Delaven,  later.  "I  never  knew  him  to  do  so  gallant  a  thing 
before.  I  could  not  have  been  more  surprised  if  he  had 
proposed  marriage  to  her  before  us  all." 

Delaven  confessed  he,  too,  was  unprepared  for  so  much 
amiability,  but  then  he  admitted  he  had  known  men  to  do 
more  astonishing  things  that  that,  on  short  notice,  for  a 
smile  from  Madame  Judithe. 

She  accepted  the  rose  with  a  slight  exclamation  of  pleas 
ure. 

"You  good  people  will  smother  me  with  sweets  and  per 
fumes,"  she  protested,  touching  her  cheek  with  the  beauti 
ful  flower ;  then,  as  she  was  about  to  smell  it,  they  were  as 
tonished  to  see  it  flung  from  her  with  a  faint  cry,  followed  by 
a  little  laugh  at  the  consternation  of  the  party. 

"How  unpardonable,  that  I  discover  a  worm  at  the  heart 
of  your  first  friendly  offering  to  me,  Mr.  Loring ;"  and  her 
tones  were  almost  caressing  as  she  smiled  at  him  ;  "the  poor, 
pretty  blossom,  so  lovely,  and  so  helpless  in  the  grasp  of  its 
enemy,  the  worm." 

Pluto  had  entered  with  a  pitcher  of  water  which  he  placed 
on  the  stand.  He  had  witnessed  the  episode  of  the  rose,  and 
picked  it  up  from  where  it  had  been  tossed. 

"Margeret  told  me  to  see  if  you  wanted  anything,  Mr. 
Loring,"  he  said,  gently,  and  Mr.  Loring's  answer  was  de 
cided,  brusque  and  natural. 

"Yes,  I  do ;  I  want  to  go  to  my  room ;  get  my  stick.  Mis 
tress  McVeigh,  if  you  have  no  objection  to  me  breaking  up 
your  party,  I  would  like  to  have  Judge  Clarkson  go  along ; 
we  must  settle  these  business  matters  while  I  am  able." 

"At  your  service,  sir,  with  your  permission,  Madame," 
and  the  Judge  glanced  at  Mrs.  McVeigh,  who  telegraphed  a 
most  willing  consent  as  she  passed  out  on  the  veranda  after 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  225 

Evilena  and  Delaven.  Judithe  stood  by  the  little  side  table, 
slowly  pulling  off  her  gauntlets,  when  she  was  aware  that 
the  colored  man  Pluto  was  regarding  her  curiously,  and 
she  perceived  the  reason.  He  had  looked  into  the  heart 
of  the  rose,  and  on  the  floor  where  it  had  fallen,  and  had 
found  no  living  thing  to  cause  her  dread  of  the  blossom. 

He  dropped  his  eyes  when  she  looked  at  him,  and  just 
then  a  bit  of  conversation  came  to  him  as  the  Judge  offered 
his  arm  to  Loring  and  assisted  him  to  rise. 

"I  certainly  am  pleased  that  you  feel  like  looking  into  the 
business  matters,"  Clarkson  was  saying,  "and  the  Rhoda 
Larue  settlement  cannot  be  postponed  any  longer ;  Colonel 
McVeigh  may  be  back  any  time  now,  and  we  must  be 
ready  to  settle  with  him." 

Loring  made  some  grumbling  remark  in  which  "five 
thousand  dollars"  was  the  only  distinguishable  thing,  and 
then  they  passed  out,  and  Pluto  followed,  leaving  the  Mar 
quise  alone,  staring  out  of  the  window  with  a  curious  smile ; 
she  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief  as  the  door  closed. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  entered  the  sitting  room  some  time  after 
and  was  astonished  to  find  her  still  there  and  alone. 

"Why,  Judithe,  I  fancied  you  had  gone  to  change  your 
habit  ages  ago,  and  here  you  are,  plunged  in  a  brown  study." 

"No — a  blue  and  green  one,"  was  the  smiling  response. 
"Have  you  ever  observed  what  a  paintable  view  there  is 
from  this  point  ?  It  would  be  a  gem  on  canvas ;  oh,  for  the 
talent  of  our  Dumaresque !" 


226  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Your  Dumaresque,"  corrected  Mrs.  McVeigh.  "I  never 
can  forgive  you,  quite,  for  sending  him  away;  oh,  Helene 
wrote  me  all  about  it — and  he  was  such  a  fine  fellow." 

"Yes,  he  was,"  and  Judithe  gave  a  little  sigh  ending  in  a 
smile ;  "but  one  can't  keep  forever  all  the  fine  fellows  one 
meets,  and  when  they  are  so  admirable  in  every  way  as 
Dumaresque,  it  seems  selfish  for  one  woman  to  capture 
them." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  shook  her  head  hopelessly  over  such  an 
argument,  but  broke  a  tiny  spray  of  blossom  from  a  plant 
and  fastened  it  in  the  lapel  of  Judithe's  habit. 

"It  is  not  so  gorgeous  as  the  rose,  but  it  is  at  least  free 
from  the  pests." 

Judithe  looked  down  at  the  blossom  admiringly.  "I  trust 
Mr.  Loring  will  forgive  my  panic — I  fear  it  annoyed  him." 

"Oh,  no — not  really.  He  is  a  trifle  eccentric,  but  his  in- 
validism  gains  him  many  excuses.  There  is  no  doubt  but 
that  you  made  a  decided  impression  on  him." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Judithe. 

Margeret  entered  the  room  just  then,  and  with  her 
hand  on  the  door  paused  and  stared  at  the  stranger  who 
was  facing  her.  Judithe,  glancing  up,  saw  a  pair  of  strange 
dark  eyes  regarding  her.  She  noticed  how  wraith-like 
the  woman  appeared,  and  how  the  brown  dress 
she  wore  made  the  sallow  face  yet  more  sallow.  A  narrow 
collar  and  cuffs  of  white,  and  the  apron,  were  the  only  sharp 
tones  in  the  picture;  all  the  rest  was  brown — brown  hair 
tinged  with  grey  rippling  back  from  the  broad  forehead, 
brown  eyes  with  a  world  of  patience  and  sadness  in  them 
and  slender,  sallow-looking  hands  against  the  white  apron. 

She  looked  like  none  of  the  house  servants  at  the  Ter 
race — in  fact  Judithe  was  a  trifle  puzzled  as  to  whether  she 
was  a  servant  at  all.  She  had  not  a  feature  suggesting  col- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  227 

ored  blood,  was  much  more  Caucasian  in  appearance  than 
Louise. 

It  was  but  a  few  seconds  they  stood  looking  at  each 
other,  when  Margeret  made  a  slight  little  inclination  of  her 
head  and  a  movement  of  the  lips  that  might  have  been  an 
apology,  but  in  that  moment  the  strange  woman's  face 
fairly  photographed  itself  on  Judithe's  mind — the  melan 
choly  expression  of  it  haunted  her  afterwards. 

Mrs.  McVeigh,  noticing  her  guest's  absorbed  gaze,  turned 
and  saw  Margeret  as  she  was  about  to  leave  the  room. 

"What  is  it,  Margeret?"  she  asked,  kindly,  "looking  for 
Miss  Gertrude?" 

"Yes,  Mistress  McVeigh ;  Mr.  Loring  wants  her." 

"I  think  she  must  have  gone  to  her  room,  she  and  Mis 
tress  Nesbitt  went  upstairs  some  time  ago." 

Margeret  gently  inclined  her  head,  and  passed  out  with 
the  noiseless  tread  Evilena  had  striven  to  emulate  in  vain 
that  day  at  Loringwood. 

"One  of  Miss  Loring's  retainers?"  asked  Judithe;  "I  fan 
cied  they  only  kept  colored  servants." 

"Margeret  is  colored,"  explained  Mrs.  McVeigh,  "that  is," 
as  the  other  showed  surprise,  "although  her  skin  does  not 
really  show  color,  yet  she  is  an  octoroon — one-eighth  of 
colored  ancestry.  She  has  never  been  to  the  Terrace  before, 
and  she  had  a  lost  sort  of  appearance  as  she  wandered  in 
here,  did  she  not?  She  belongs  to  Miss  Loring's  portion 
of  the  estate,  and  is  very  capable  in  her  strange,  quiet  way. 
There  have  been  times,  however,  when  she  was  not  quite 
right  mentally — before  we  moved  up  here,  and  the  darkies 
rather  stand  in  awe  of  her  ever  since,  but  she  is  entirely 
harmless." 


228  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"That  explains  her  peculiar,  wistful  expression,"  suggested 
Judithe.  "I  am  glad  you  told  me  of  it,  for  her  melancholy 
had  an  almost  mesmeric  effect  on  me — and  her  eyes !" 

All  the  time  she  was  changing  her  dress  for  lunch  those 
haunting  eyes,  and  even  the  tones  of  her  voice,  remained 
with  her. 

"Those  poor  octoroons  !"  and  she  sighed  as  she  thought  of 
them,  "the  intellect  of  their  white  fathers,  and  the  bar  of  their 
mothers'  blood  against  the  development  of  it — poor  soul, 
poor  soul — she  actually  looks  like  a  soul  in  prison.  Oh !" — 
and  she  flung  out  her  hands  in  sudden  passion  of  impo 
tence.  "What  can  one  woman  do  against  such  a  multitude? 
One  look  into  that  woman's  hopeless  face  has  taken  all  the 
courage  from  me.  Ah,  the  resignation  of  it !" 

But  when  she  appeared  among  the  others  a  little  later, 
gowned  in  sheer  white,  with  touches  of  apple  green  here 
and  there,  and  the  gay,  gracious  manner  of  one  pleased 
with  the  world,  and  having  all  reason  to  believe  the  world 
pleased  with  her,  no  one  could  suspect  that  she  had  any 
more  serious  problem  to  solve  than  that  of  arranging  her 
own  amusements. 

Just  now  the  things  most  interesting  to  her  were  the  af 
fairs  of  the  Confederacy.  Judge  Clarkson  answered  all  her 
questions  with  much  good  humor,  mingled  with  amusement, 
for  the  Marquise,  despite  her  American  sympathies,  would 
get  affairs  hopelessly  mixed  when  trying  to  comprehend 
political  and  military  intricacies ;  and  then  the  gallant  Judge 
would  explain  it  all  over  again.  Whether  from  Columbia 
or  Charleston,  he  was  always  in  touch  with  the  latest  re 
turns,  hopes,  plans  of  the  leaders,  and  possibilities  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  together  with  all  surreptitious  assist 
ance  from  foreign  sources,  in  which  Great  Britain  came 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  229 

first  and  Spain  close  behind,  each  having  special  reasons  of 
their  own  for  widening  the  breach  in  the  union  of  states. 

From  Mobile  there  came,  also,  through  letters  to  Mrs. 
McVeigh,  many  of  the  plans  and  possibilities  of  the  South 
ern  posts — her  brother  being  stationed  at  a  fort  there  and 
transmitting  many  interesting  views  and  facts  of  the  situa 
tion  to  his  sister  on  her  more  Northern  plantation. 

Thus,  although  they  were  out  of  the  whirl  of  border  and 
coast  strife,  they  were  by  no  means  isolated  as  regards  tid 
ings,  and  the  fact  was  so  well  understood  that  their  less  for 
tunate  neighbors  gathered  often  at  the  Terrace  to  hear  and 
discuss  new  endeavors,  hopes  and  fears. 

"I  like  it,"  confessed  Judithe  to  Delaven,  "they  are  like 
one  great  family ;  in  no  country  in  the  world  could  you  see 
such  unanimous  enthusiasm  over  one  central  question. 
They  all  appear  to  know  so  many  of  the  representative  peo 
ple  ;  in  no  other  agricultural  land  could  it  be  so.  And  there 
is  one  thing  especially  striking  to  me  in  comparison  with 
France — in  all  this  turmoil  there  is  never  a  scandal,  no  in 
trigues  in  high  places  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to  in  a 
court  where  Madame,  the  general's  wife,  is  often  quite  as 
much  of  a  factor  in  the  political  scene  as  the  general  him 
self  ;  it  is  all  very  refreshing  to  a  foreigner." 

"Our  women  of  the  South,"  said  the  Judge,  who  listened, 
"are  more  of  an  inspiration  because  they  are  never  associated 
in  our  minds  with  any  life  but  that  of  the  home  circle  and  its 
refining  influences.  When  our  women  enter  the  arena,  it  is 
only  in  the  heart  and  memory  of  some  man  whose  ideals, 
Madame,  are  higher,  whose  ambitions  are  nobler,  because 
she  exists  untouched  by  the  notoriety  attaching  itself  to  the 
court  intrigues  you  mention,  the  notoriety  too  often  mis 
called  fame." 


230  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Right  you  are,  Judge,"  said  Delaven,  heartily.  "After 
all,  human  nature  is  very  much  alike  whether  in  kingdom 
or  republic,  and  men  love  best  the  same  sort  of  women  the 
world  over." 

Matthew  Loring  entered  the  room  just  then,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  Gertrude,  whose  fair  hair  made  harmony  with 
the  corn-colored  lawn  in  which  she  looked  daintily  pretty, 
and  as  the  two  ladies  faced  each  other  the  contrasted  types 
made  a  most  effective  picture. 

"You  have  not  met  the  Marquise  de  Caron  ?"  he  asked  of 
Gertrude;  and  then  with  a  certain  pride  in  this  last  of  the 
Lorings,  he  continued :  "Madame  la  Marquise,  allow  me  to 
present  my  niece,  Miss  Loring." 

The  blue  eyes  of  the  Carolina  girl  and  the  mesmeric 
amber  eyes  of  the  Parisian  met,  with  the  slight  conventional 
smile  ladies  favor  each  other  with,  sometimes.  There  was 
decided  interest  shown  by  each  in  the  other — an  interest 
alert  and  questioning.  Judithe  turned  brightly  to  Loring: 

"In  your  democratic  land,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  dispensed 
with  'La  Marquise.'  While  here  I  am  Madame  Caron,  very 
much  at  your  service,"  and  she  made  him  a  miniature  bow. 

"We  shall  not  forget  your  preference,  Madame  Caron," 
said  Gertrude,  "it  is  a  pretty  compliment  to  our  institu 
tions."  Then  she  glanced  at  Delaven,  "did  we  interrupt  a 
dissertation  on  your  favorite  topic,  Doctor?" 

"Never  a  bit ;  it's  yourself  is  an  inspiration  to  continue  the 
same  topic  indefinitely,"  and  he  explained  the  difference 
Madame  Caron  had  noticed  in  political  matter  with  and 
without  the  feminine  element. 

"For  all  that,  there  are  women  in  the  political  machines 
here,  also,"  said  Loring,  testily — "too  many  of  them,  secret 
agents,  spies,  and  the  like.  Gertrude,  what  was  it  Captain 
Masterson  reported  about  some  very  dangerous  person  of 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  231 

that  sort  in  New  Orleans? — a  woman  whose  assistance  to 
the  Yankees  was  remarkable,  and  whose  circle  of  acquaint 
ances  was  without  doubt  the  very  highest — did  he  learn  her 
name  ?" 

"Why,  no,  Uncle  Matthew;  don't  you  remember  he  was 
finding  fault  with  our  secret  agents  because  they  had  not 
established  her  identity — in  fact,  had  only  circumstan 
tial  evidence  that  it  was  a  woman,  though  very  positive  evi 
dence  that  the  person  belonged  to  the  higher  social  circle 
there." 

"Faith,  I  should  think  the  higher  circle  would  be  in  a  sorry 
whirl  just  then — not  knowing  which  of  your  neighbors  at 
dinner  had  a  cup  or  dagger  for  you." 

"The  daggers  were  only  figurative,"  said  the  Judge,  "but 
they  were  none  the  less  dangerous,  and  the  shame  of  it! 
each  innocent  loyal  Southerner  convinced  that  a  traitor  had 
been  made  as  one  of  themselves — trusted  as  is  the  nature  of 
Southerners  when  dealing  with  friends,  just  as  if,  in  this 
Eden-like  abode,  Mistress  McVeigh  should  be  entertaining 
in  any  one  of  us,  supposed  to  be  loyal  Southerners,  a  traitor 
to  his  country." 

"How  dreadful  to  imagine!"  said  Judithe,  with  a  little 
gesture  of  horror,  "and  what  do  they  do  with  them — those 
dangerous  serpents  of  Eden?" 

"It  isn't  nice  at  all  to  hear  about,  Madame  Caron,"  spoke 
Aunt  Sajane,  who  was,  as  usual,  occupied  with  the  unlovely 
knitting.  "It  gave  me  chills  to  hear  Phil  Masterson  say  how 
that  spy  would  be  treated  when  found — not  even  given  time 
for  prayers!" 

"Captain  Masterson  is  most  loyal  and  zealous,  but  given 
to  slight  extravagancies  in  such  matters,"  amended  the 
Judge.  "No  woman  has  ever  suffered  the  extreme  penalty 
of  military  law  for  spy  work,  in  this  country,  and  especially 


232  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

would  it  be  impossible  in  the  South.  Imprisonment  indefi 
nitely  and  the  probable  confiscation  of  all  property  would 
no  doubt  be  the  sentence  if,  as  in  this  suspected  case,  the 
traitoress  were  a  Southern  woman  of  means.  But  that 
seems  scarcely  credible.  I  have  heard  of  the  affair  men 
tioned,  but  I  refuse  to  believe  any  daughter  of  the  South 
would  so  employ  herself." 

"Thank  you,  Judge,"  said  Gertrude,  very  prettily;  "any 
daughter  of  the  South  would  die  of  shame  from  the  very 
suspicion  against  her." 

"Who  is  to  die  ?"  asked  Mrs.  McVeigh,  coming  in ;  "all  of 
you,  and  of  hunger,  perhaps,  if  I  delay  tea  any  longer. 
Come  right  on  into  the  dining  room,  please,  and  let  me  hear 
this  discussion  of  Southern  daughters,  for  I  chance  to  be  a 
daughter  of  the  South  myself." 

Captain  Philip  Masterson,  from  an  adjoining  plantation, 
arrived  after  they  were  seated  at  the  table,  and  was  taken  at 
once  into  the  dining  room,  where  Judithe  regarded  with 
interest  this  extremist  who  would  not  allow  a  secret  agent 
of  the  North  time  for  prayers.  He  did  not  look  very  fero 
cious,  though  his  manner  had  a  bluntness  not  usual  in  the 
Southern  men  she  had  met — a  soldier  above  and  beyond 
everything  else,  intelligent,  but  not  broad,  good  looking 
with  the  good  looks  of  dark,  curly  hair,  a  high  color,  heavy 
mustache,  which  he  had  a  weakness  for  caressing  as  he 
talked,  and  full,  bold  eyes  roaming  about  promiscuously 
and  taking  entire  advantage  of  the  freedom  granted  him  at 
the  Terrace,  where  he  had  been  received  as  neighbor  since 
boyhood.  He  was  a  cousin  of  Gertrude's,  and  it  was  not 
difficult  to  see  that  she  was  the  first  lady  in  the  county  to 
him,  and  the  county  was  the  center  of  Philip  Masterson's 
universe. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  233 

He  was  stationed  at  Charleston  and  was  absent  only  for 
some  necessary  business  at  Columbia,  and  hearing  Judge 
Clarkson  was  at  the  Terrace  he  had  halted  long  enough  to 
greet  the  folks  and  consult  the  Judge  on  some  legal  tech 
nicality  involved  in  his  journey. 

Pluto,  who  had  seen  that  the  Captain's  horse  had  also 
been  given  refreshment,  came  thoughtfully  up  the  steps, 
puzzling  his  head  over  the  perfect  rose  cast  aside  on  a  pre 
tense.  It  puzzled  him  quite  as  much  as  the  problem  of 
Louise ;  and  the  only  key  he  could  find  to  it  was  that  this 
very  grand  lady  knew  all  about  the  identity  of  Louise,  and 
knew  why  she  had  hurried  away  so  when  old  Nelse  recog 
nized  her. 

He  wished  he  had  that  picture  of  Margeret,  brought  by 
Rosa  from  Georgia.  But  it  was  still  with  a  lot  of  Rosa's 
things  over  at  the  Larue  plantation,  with  the  child.  He 
counted  on  going  over  to  see  the  boy  in  a  week  at  the 
furthest. 

As  he  reached  the  top  of  the  steps  he  could  see  Margeret 
through  the  open  window  ,of  the  sitting  room.  Her  back 
was  towards  him,  and  she  was  so  absorbed  in  regarding  the 
party  in  the  dining  room  that  he  approached  unnoticed,  and 
she  turned  with  a  gasp  as  of  fear  when  he  spoke : 

"You're  like  to  see  more  gay  folks  like  that  over  here 
than  you  have  at  Loringwood,"  he  remarked.  "I  reckon 
you  glad  to  move." 

"No,"  she  said,  and  went  slowly  towards  the  veranda; 
then  she  turned  and  looked  at  him  questionably,  and  with 
an  interest  seldom  shown  for  anyone. 

"You — you  heard  news  from  Larue  plantation?"  she 
asked,  hesitatingly. 

"Who,  me?  No,  I  aint  had  no  news.  I  aint" — then  he 
stopped  and  stared  at  her,  slowly  comprehending  what  news 


234  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

might  come  from  there.  "Fo'  God's  sake,  tell  me!  My 
Zekal ;  my — " 

She  lifted  her  finger  for  silence  and  caught  his  arm. 

"They  hear  you — they  will,"  she  said,  warningly,  "come  in 
here." 

She  opened  the  door  into  the  library  and  he  followed ;  she 
could  feel  his  hand  tremble,  and  his  eyes  were  pleading  and 
full  of  terror.  The  light  chatter  and  laughter  in  the  dining 
room  followed  them. 

"Sick?"  and  his  eyes  searched  her  face  for  reply,  but  she 
slowly  shook  her  head  and  he  caught  his  breath  in  a  sob,  as 
he  whispered:  "Daid!  My  baby,  oh — " 

"Sh-h !  He's  alive — your  boy.  It's  worse  than  that,  may 
be — and  they  never  let  you  know!  Mr.  Larue  had  gone 
down  to  Mexico,  and  the  overseer  has  published  all  his 
slaves  to  be  sold — all  sold,  and  your  child — your  little  boy — " 

"God  A'mighty !" 

He  was  silent  after  that  half-whispered  ejaculation.  His 
face  was  covered  with  his  hands,  while  the  woman  stood 
regarding  him,  a  world  of  pity  in  her  eyes. 

"They  can't  sell  Zekal,"  he  said,  at  last,  looking  up. 
"Mahs  Larue  tole  me  plain  he  give  me  chance.  I  got  some 
o'  the  money,  that  eighteen  dollah  I  paid  on  Rosa's  freedom 
— that  gwine  be  counted  in — then  I  got  most  nine  dollah 
'sides  that  yet,  an'  I  gwine  Mahs  Jean  Larue  an'  go  down 
my  knees  fo'  that  boy,  I  will !  He  only  pickaninny,  my 
Zekal,  an'  I  promise  Rosa  'fore  she  died  our  boy  gwine  be 
free ;  so  I  gwine  Mahs  Larue,  I — " 

Margeret  shook  her  head. 

"He's  gone,  I  tell  you — gone  to  Mexico,  more  miles  away 
than  you  could  count;  sold  the  sugar  plantation  and  left 
the  colored  folks  for  lawyer  and  overseer  to  sell.  They  all 
to  be  sold — a  sale  bill  came  to  Loringwood  yesterday.  Men 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  235 

like  overseers  and  lawyers  never  take  account  of  one  little 
pickaninny  among  a  hundred.  One  same  as  another  to  them 
— one  same  as  another !" 

Her  voice  broke  and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands, 
rocking  from  side  to  side,  overcome  by  memories  of  what 
had  been.  Pluto  looked  at  her  and  realized  from  his  own 
misery  what  hers  had  been.  Again  the  laughter  and  tinkle 
of  tea  things  drifted  in  to  them ;  some  one  was  telling  a 
story,  and  then  the  laughter  came  more  clearly.  Pluto  lis 
tened,  and  his  face  grew  hard,  brutish  in  its  sullen  hate. 

"And  they  can  laugh,"  he  muttered,  sullenly,  "while  my 
baby — my  Rosa's  baby — is  sold  to  the  traders,  sold  away 
where  I  nevah  can  find  him  again ;  sold  while  the  white  folks 
laugh  an'  make  merry,"  and  he  raised  his  hand  above  his 
head  in  a  fury  of  suppressed  rage.  "A  curse  on  every  one 
of  them !  a  curse — " 

Margeret  caught  his  arm  with  a  command  to  silence. 

"Hush !  You  got  a  kind  master — a  kind  mistress.  The 
people  who  laugh  at  that  table  are  not  to  blame  on  account 
of  Rosa's  master,  who  holds  your  child." 

"You  stand  up  fo'  the  race  that  took  yo'  chile  from  yo?" 
he  demanded,  fiercely.  "That  held  yo'  a  slave  when  yo'  was 
promised  freedom  ?  That  drove  yo'  wild  fo'  years  with  mis 
ery  ?  The  man  is  in  that  room  who  did  all  that,  an'  yo'  stan' 
up  fo'  him  along  of  the  rest  ?" 

He  paused,  glowering  down  at  her  as  if  she,  too,  were 
white  enough  to  hate.  When  she  spoke  it  was  very  quietly, 
almost  reprovingly. 

"My  child  died.  What  good  was  freedom  to  me  without 
her  ?  Where  in  all  this  wide  world  would  I  go  with  my  free 
dom  if  I  had  it  ?  Free  and  alone  ?  No,"  and  she  shook  her 
head  sadly,  "I  would  be  like  a  child  lost  from  home — 


236  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

helpless.  The  young  folks  laughing  there  never  hurt  me 
— never  hurt  you." 

The  people  were  leaving  the  dining  room.  Captain  Mas- 
terson,  who  had  time  for  but  a  brief  call,  was  walking  along 
the  veranda  in  low  converse  with  the  Judge.  Judithe  had 
separated  herself  from  the  rest  and  walked  through  the  sit 
ting  room  into  the  library,  when  she  halted,  surprised  at 
those  two  facing  each  other  with  the  air  of  arrested  combat 
or  argument.  She  recovered  her  usual  manner  enough  to 
glance  at  the  clock,  and  as  her  eyes  crossed  Margeret's  face 
she  saw  traces  of  tears  there. 

''It  is  time,  almost,  for  the  mail  up  from  Pocotaligo  today, 
is  it  not,  Pluto?"  she  said,  moving  towards  a  book-case. 
Receiving  no  reply,  she  stopped  and  looked  at  him,  at  which 
he  recovered  himself  enough  to  mutter,  "Yes,  mist'ess,"  and 
turned  towards  the  door,  his  trembling  tones  and  the  half- 
groping  movement  as  he  put  his  hand  out  before  him 
showed  he  was  laboring  under  some  emotion  too  intense  for 
concealment,  and  involuntarily  she  made  a  gesture  of  com 
mand. 

"Wait !  You  have  grief — some  sad  misfortune  ?"  and  she 
glanced  from  his  face  to  that  of  Margeret,  questioningly. 
"Poor  fellow— is  it  a  death  ?" 

"No  death,  and  nothing  to  trouble  a  white  lady  with,"  he 
said,  without  turning,  and  with  hopeless  bitterness  in  his 
voice ;  "not  fit  to  be  told  'long  side  o'  white  folks  merry- 
maken',  only — only  Rosa,  my  boy's  mother,  died  yeah  ago 
ovah  on  Larue  plantation,  an'  now  the  chile  hisself — my 
Rosa's  baby — gwine  to  be  sold  away — gwine  to  be  sold  to 
the  traders !" 

His  voice  broke  in  a  sob ;  all  the  bitterness  was  drowned 
in  the  wave  of  grief  under  which  his  shoulders  heaved,  and 
his  broken  breaths  made  the  only  sound  in  the  room,  as 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  237 

Judithe  turned  questioningly  to  Margaret,  who  bent  her 
head  in  confirmation  of  his  statement. 

"But,"  and  the  questioner  looked  a  trifle  bewildered,  "a 
little  child,  that  would  not  mean  a  great  expense,  surely  if 
your  mistress,  or  your  master,  knew,  they  would  help  you." 

Margeret  shook  her  head,  and  Pluto  spoke  more  calmly. 

"Not  likely  ;  this  war  done  crippled  all  the  folks  in  money ; 
that  why  Mahs  Jean  Larue  sell  out  an'  go  ovah  in  Mexico ; 
that  why  Loren'wood  up  fo'  sale  to  strangers;  that  why 
Judge  Clarkson  done  sell  out  his  share  in  cotton  plantation 
up  the  river ;  ain't  nobody  got  hundreds  these  days,  an'  law 
yers  won't  take  promises.  I  done  paid  eighteen  dollars  on 
Rosa  when  she  died,  but  I  ain't  got  no  writin',"  he  went  on, 
miserably,  "that  was  to  go  on  Zekal,  an'  I  have  'nigh  onto 
nine  dollars  'sides  that.  I  gwine  take  it  ovah  to  Mahs  Larue 
nex'  week,  sure,  an'  now — an' — now — " 

His  words  were  smothered  in  a  sigh;  what  use  were 
words,  any  way  ?  Judithe  felt  that  Margeret's  eyes  were  on 
her  face  as  she  listened — wistful,  questioning  eyes !  Would 
the  words  be  of  no  use  ? 

"The  Jean  Larue  estate,"  she  said,  meditatively,  seating 
herself  at  the  table  and  picking  up  a  pen,  "and  your  wife  was 
named  Rosa?" 

"Yes'm."  He  was  staring  at  her  as  a  man  drowning 
might  stare  at  a  spar  drifting  his  way  on  a  chance  wave ; 
there  was  but  the  shadow  of  a  hope  in  his  face  as  he  watched 
with  parted  lips  the  hand  with  the  pen — and  back  of  the 
shadow  what  substance ! 

"And  she  is  dead — how  long  ?" 

"A  yeah  gone  now." 

"And  Mr.  Larue  asks  how  much  for  her  child  ?" 

16 


238  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Hundred  'n'  fifty  dollar — this  what  he  said,  but,  God 
knows,  lawyers  got  hold  o'  things  now,  maybe  even  more  'n 
that  now,  an'  anyway — " 

His  words  sounded  vague  and  confused  in  his  own  ears, 
for  she  was  writing,  and  did  not  appear  to  hear. 

"Where  is  this  Larue  place?"  she  asked,  glancing  up.  "I 
heard  of  a  Jean  Larue  plantation  across  in  Georgia — is  this 
it?" 

"No'm,"  and  he  turned  an  eager  look  of  hope  towards 
Margeret  at  this  pointed  questioning,  but  her  expression 
was  unchanged;  she  only  looked  at  the  strange  lady  who 
questioned  and  showed  sympathy. 

"No,  mist'ess,  this  Mahs  Jean  Larue  did  stay  on  they 
Georgy  plantation  till  five  yeah  back,  then  they  move  ovah 
to  Callina  again;  that  how  I  come  to  meet  up  with  Rosa. 
Larue  place  down  river  towards  Beaufort — a  whole  day's 
walken'." 

"What  did  you  say  this  child  was  named?"  she  asked, 
without  ceasing  the  movement  of  the  pen  over  the  white 
paper. 

"His  name  Ezekal,  but  we  ain't  nevah  call  him  anything 
but  Zekal— he's  so.  little  yet." 

"And  when  is  this  sale  to  be?" 

Pluto  looked  helplessly  towards  Margeret. 

"Tomorrow  week,  Madame  Caron,"  she  said,  speaking 
for  the  first  time,  though  her  steady  gaze  had  almost  made 
Judithe  nervous.  It  had  a  peculiar,  appealing  quality,  which 
Judithe,  with  a  little  grimace,  assured  herself  was  so  appeal 
ing  it  was  compelling;  it  left  her  no  choice  but  to  do  what 
slie  was  doing  and  for  which  she  could  take  no  credit  what 
ever  to  herself — the  wistful  eyes  of  the  pale-faced  bond 
woman  did  it  all. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  239 

"In  a  week  there  is  plenty  of  time  to  arrange  it,"  she  said, 
turning  kindly  to  Pluto.  "You  can  rest  in  peace  about  your 
Rosa's  boy.  I  will  attend  to  it  at  once,  and  the  traders  shall 
never  have  him." 

Margeret  drew  a  sharp,  inward  breath  of  relief. 

"Yo'  mean  you'll  buy  him  in?"  and  Pluto's  voice  was 
scarcely  more  than  a  whisper.  "Yo'  mean  I'll  have  a  chance, 
maybe,  lo  buy  him  back  some  day  ?" 

"Not  'some  day,'  my  good  fellow,"  and  Judithe  folded  the 
paper  she  had  been  writing;  "from  the  day  he  is  bought 
from  the  Larue  estate  he  will  have  his  freedom.  He  will 
never  be  bought  or  sold  again." 

The  man  stared  at  her,  helplessly.  No  hope  of  his  had 
ever  reached  so  high  as  that\  He  tried  to  speak — failed — 
and  his  face  was  covered  by  his  sleeve,  as  he  went  slowly 
out  of  the  room. 

"Don't — don't  you  think  Pluto  ain't  thankful,  Madame 
Caron,"  said  the  soft  tones  of  Margeret,  and  they  were  not 
quite  steady  tones,  either.  Judithe  did  not  look  up  for  fear 
she  should  see  tears  in  the  melancholy,  dark  eyes ;  "that 
black  boy  just  so  thankful  he  can't  speak.  He'll  worship 
you  for  what  you've  done  for  him,  and  well  he  may." 

There  was  a  soft  rustle  beside  her — the  presence  of  lips 
on  her  hand,  and  then  Judithe  was  alone  in  the  room,  and 
stronger  than  when  she  had  entered  it  so  short  a  while  since, 
braced  by  the  certainty  that  here,  at  least,  she  had  been  of 
use — practical  use  her  own  eyes  could  see,  and  all  the  even 
ing  a  bird  sang  in  her  heart,  and  the  grateful  touch  of  the 
bondwoman's  lips  gave  her  more  pleasure  than  she  could 
remember  through  the  same  tribute  of  any  courtier. 


240  THE  BONDWOMAN. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

When  Pluto  brought  her  mail,  an  hour  later,  he  tried  to 
express  more  clearly  in  words  the  utter  happiness  showing 
through  every  feature  of  his  dark  face,  but  she  stopped  him 
with  a  little  gesture. 

"I  see  you  are  glad — no  need  to  tell  it,"  she  remarked, 
briefly ;  "if  you  want  to  thank  me  do  it  by  helping  any  of 
your  people  whom  you  find  in  trouble.  There  are  many  of 
them,  no  doubt." 

And  when  Mrs.  McVeigh  thanked  her  for  doing  what  she 
could  not  have  done  on  such  short  notice,  Judithe  put  the 
•question  aside  quite  as  lightly. 

"The  man  is  a  very  good  groom,"  she  remarked.  "I  en 
joyed  my  ride  the  more  today  for  having  him  along  to  an 
swer  all  my  curious  questions  of  the  country.  I  meant  to 
give  him  'backsheesh,'  as  the  Orientals  call  it,  so  why  not 
select  what  the  fellow  most  wants — even  though  it  be  a 
pickaninny  ?" 

"Well,  he  certainly  is  singing  your  praises  down  in  the 
cook-house.  I  even  heard  several  'hallelujas'  from  Aunt 
Dilsey's  particular  corner.  Judge  Clarkson  has  endorsed  the 
check  and  will  send  a  white  man  horseback  with  it  to  Larues 
in  the  morning.  Pluto  starts  tonight  on  foot  across  country 
— says  he  can't  sleep,  any  way — he's  so  happy.  The  women 
are  arguing  already  as  to  which  shall  have  the  special  care  of 
Zekal.  Altogether,  you  have  created  a  sensation  in  the 
household,  and  we  all  love  you  for  it." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  241 

"What  further  recompense  to  be  desired  ?  It  really  is  not 
worth  so  much  of  praise." 

"Kenneth  will  not  think  so  when  he  comes  home,"  and 
Kenneth's  mother  slipped  her  arm  around  the  girl's  shoulder 
affectionately,  not  noticing  how  her  careless  expression 
changed  at  mention  of  the  name. 

"Oh!  Will  he,  then,  be  interested  in  such  small  things 
as  pickaninnies  ?"  and  her  light  words  belied  the  look  in  her 
eyes. 

"Will  he  ?  Well,  I  should  think  so !  You  have  done  just 
what  he  would  want  done — what  he  would  do  if  it  were  pos 
sible.  For  two  generations  the  McVeighs  have  neither 
bought  nor  sold  slaves" — Judithe's  eyes  shot  one  disdainful 
flash — "just  kept  those  inherited;  but  I'm  sure  that  boy  of 
mine  would  have  broken  the  rule  for  his  generation  in  this 
case,  and  he'll  be  so  grateful  to  you  for  it.  Pluto  was  his 
playmate  and  respected  monitor  as  a  child,  and  Pluto's 
Zekal  certainly  will  have  a  place  in  his  affections." 

Judithe  picked  up  one  of  several  letters,  over  which  she 
had  glanced,  and  remarked  that  she  would  expect  a  visitor 
within  a  week — possibly  in  a  day  or  two,  the  master  of  her 
yacht,  which  from  a  letter  received,  she  learned  had  reached 
Savannah  before  Louise.  A  storm  had  been  encountered 
somewhere  along  the  southern  coast,  and  he  would  submit 
the  list  of  damages — not  heavy,  yet  needing  a  certain 
amount  of  refitting. 

"Fortunate  Louise  did  go  down,"  she  said,  with  a  cer 
tain  satisfaction,  as  she  laid  down  the  communication.  "She 
will  be  perfectly  happy,  even  hobbling  around  with  a  cane, 
if  she  is  only  buying  things ;  she  delights  in  spending 
money ;"  then,  after  a  pause,  "I  presume  Col.  McVeigh's  re 
turn  is  still  uncertain?" 


242  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Yes,  rather ;  yet  I  fancy  each  morning  he  will  come  be 
fore  night,  and  each  night  that  he  may  waken  me  in  the 
morning.  I  have  been  living  in  that  delightful  hopefulness 
for  a  week." 

Lena  called  them  and  they  went  out  to  the  rustic  seat 
circling  the  great  live  oak  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  The  oth 
ers  were  there,  and  the  Judge  was  preparing  to  drive  the 
three  miles  home  with  his  sister.  Now  that  the  invalid  was 
better,  and  the  wanderer  returned  from  Mobile,  Aunt  Sajane 
bethought  herself  of  the  possible  sixes  and  sevens  of  her 
own  establishment,  and  drove  away  with  promises  of  fre 
quent  visits  on  both  sides. 

Long  after  the  others  had  retired  for  the  night  Judithe's 
light  burned,  and  there  was  little  of  the  careless  butterfly  of 
fashion  in  her  manner  as  she  examined  one  after  another  of 
the  letters  brought  her  by  the  last  mail,  and  wrote  replies  to 
some  she  meant  to  take  to  the  office  herself  during  her  early 
morning  ride;  it  was  so  delightful  to  have  an  errand,  and 
Pluto  had  shown  her  the  road.  After  all  the  others  were 
done  she  picked  up  again  the  communication  she  had  shown 
to  Mrs.  McVeigh — the  report  from  the  yacht  master,  and 
from  the  same  envelope  extracted  a  soft  silken  slip  of  paper 
with  marks  peculiar — apparently  mere  senseless  scratches  of 
a  thoughtless  pen,  but  it  was  over  that  paper  and  the  reply 
most  of  the  evening  was  spent.  It  was  the  most  ancient 
method  of  secret  writing  known  to  history,  yet,  apparently, 
so  meaningless  that  it  might  pass  unnoticed  even  by  the 
alert,  or  be  turned  aside  as  the  ambitious  scrawlings  of  a 
little  child. 

Each  word  as  deciphered  she  had  pencilled  on  a  slip  of 
paper,  and  when  complete  it  read : 

"Courant  brings  word  McV.  is  likely  to  be  of  special  in 
terest.  If  he  travels  with  guard  we  can't  interfere  on  road 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  243 

from  coast,  and  you  will  be  only  hope.  A  guard  of  Federals 
will  be  landed  north  of  Beaufort  and  await  your  orders. 
Messenger  will  communicate  soon  as  movements  are  known. 
You  may  expect  Pierson.  We  await  your  orders  or  any 
suggestions." 

There  was  no  signature.  Her  orders  or  suggestions  were 
written  in  the  same  cipher,  and  required  much  more  time 
and  thought  than  had  been  given  to  the  buying  and  freeing 
of  Pluto's  pickaninny,  after  which  she  destroyed  all  unneces 
sary  writings,  and  retired  with  the  satisfied  feeling  of  good 
work  done  and  better  in  prospect,  and  in  a  short  time  was 
sleeping  the  calm,  sweet  sleep  of  a  conscienceless  child. 

She  rode  even  further  next  morning  than  she  had  the  pre 
ceding  day,  when  Pluto  was  her  guide,  and  she  rode  as 
straight  east  as  she  could  go  towards  the  coast.  When  she 
met  colored  folk  along  the  road  she  halted,  and  spoke  with 
them,  to  their  great  delight.  She  asked  of  the  older  ones 
where  the  road  led  to,  and  were  the  pine  woods  everywhere 
along  it,  and  what  about  swamps  and  streams  to  ford,  etc., 
etc.  Altogether,  she  had  gained  considerable  knowledge  of 
that  especial  territory  by  the  time  she  rode  back  to  the  Ter 
race  and  joined  the  rest  at  the  late  breakfast.  She  had  been 
in  the  saddle  since  dawn,  and  recounted  with  vivacity  all 
the  little  episodes  of  her  solitary  constitutional ;  the  novelty 
of  it  was  exilarating.  That  it  appeared  a  trifle  eccentric  to  a 
Southerner  did  not  suggest  itself  to  her ;  all  her  eccentricities 
were  charming  to  the  McVeigh  household,  and  Delaven 
lamented  he  had  not  been  invited  as  proxy  for  Pluto,  and 
amused  the  breakfast  party  by  anecdotes  of  hunting  days  in 
Ireland,  and  the  energy  and  daring  of  the  ladies  who  rode  at 
dawn  there. 

Several  times  during  the  day  Judithe  attempted  to  have 
a  tete-a-tete  with  Mrs.  McVeigh,  and  learn  more  about  Miss 


244  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Loring's  silent  maid,  who  was  the  first  person  she  saw  on 
her  return  from  the  ride  that  morning.  The  absolute  self- 
effacement  of  an  individual  whose  repose  suggested  self-re 
liance,  and  whose  well  shaped  head  was  poised  so  admirably 
as  to  suggest  pride,  made  the  sad-faced  servant  a  fascin 
ating  personality  to  any  one  interested  in  questions  concern 
ing  her  race.  No  other  had  so  won  her  attention  since  she 
made  compact  with  Kora  in  Paris. 

But  Mistress  McVeigh  was  a  very  busy  woman  that  day. 
Pluto's  absence  left  a  vacancy  in  the  establishment  no  other 
could  fill  so  intelligently.  Miss  Loring  had  promptly  at 
tached  herself  as  general  assistant  to  the  mistress  of  the 
house.  Delaven  noticed  how  naturally  she  fell  into  the  posi 
tion  of  an  elder  daughter  there,  and,  remembering  Evilena's 
disclosures  at  Loringwood,  and  Matthew  Loring's  own 
statement,  he  concluded  that  the  wedding  bells  might  sound 
at  any  time  after  Kenneth's  return,  and  he  fancied  they  had 
been  delayed,  already,  three  years  longer  than  suited  the 
pleasure  of  her  uncle. 

Delaven,  as  well  as  Judithe,  was  attracted  by  the  person 
ality  of  Margeret.  In  the  light,  or  the  shadow,  of  the  sad 
story  he  had  listened  to,  she  took  on  a  new  interest,  an 
atmosphere  of  romance  surrounded  her.  He  pictured  what 
her  life  must  have  been  as  a  child,  amid  the  sunshine  of 
Florida,  the  favorite  of  her  easy-living,  easy-loving  Greek 
father,  the  sole  relic  of  some  pretty  slave !  As  she  walked 
silently  along  the  halls  of  the  Terrace,  he  tried  to  realize 
Nelse's  description  of  her  gayety,  once,  in  the  halls  of  Lor 
ingwood.  And  when  he  observed  the  adoring  eyes  with 
which  she  regarded  the  Marquise  after  the  pickaninny  epis 
ode,  he  understood  it  was  another  child  she  was  thinking  of 
— a  child  who  should  have  been  freed,  and  was  not,  and  the 
feelings  of  Pluto  were  as  her  own. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  245 

Two  entire  days  passed  without  Pluto's  return.  There 
was  some  delay,  owing  to  the  absence  of  the  overseer  from 
the  Larue  estate ;  then,  Zekal  was  ailing,  and  that  delayed 
him  until  sundown  of  the  second  day,  when  he  took  the  child 
in  his  arms — his  own  child  now — and  with  its  scanty  ward 
robe,  and  a  few  sundry  articles  of  Rose's,  all  saved  re 
ligiously  by  an  old  "aunty,"  who  had  nursed  her — he  started 
homeward  on  his  long  night  tramp,  so  happy  he  scarce  felt 
the  weight  of  the  boy  in  his  arms,  or  that  of  the  bundle  fas 
tened  with  a  rope  across  his  shoulders.  He  had  his  boy,  and 
the  boy  was  free !  and  when  he  thought  of  the  stranger  who 
had  wrought  this  miracle  his  heart  swelled  with  gratitude 
and  the  tears  blinded  him  as  he  tramped  homeward  through 
the  darkness. 

The  first  faint  color  of  dawn  was  showing  in  the  east  when 
he  walked  into  Dilsey's  cook-house  and  showed  the  child 
asleep  in  his  arms. 

What  a  commotion !  as  the  other  house  servants  mustered 
in,  sleepily,  and  straightway  were  startled  very  wide  awake 
indeed,  and  each  insisted  on  feeling  the  weight  of  the  new 
comer,  just,  Dilsey  said,  as  if  there  never  was  a  child  seen 
on  that  plantation  before.  And  all  had  cures  for  the 
"brashy"  spell  the  little  chap  had  been  afflicted  by,  and 
which  seemed  frightened  away  entirely,  as  he  looked  about 
him  with  eyes  like  black  beads.  All  the  new  faces,  and  the 
petting,  were  a  revelation  to  Zekal. 

Dilsey  put  up  with  it  till  everything  else  seemed  at  a  stand 
still  in  the  morning's  work,  when  she  scattered  the  young 
folks  right  and  left  to  their  several  duties,  got  Pluto  an  ex 
cellent  breakfast,  and  gave  the  child  in  charge  of  one  of  the 
mothers  in  the  quarters  till  "mist'ess"  settled  about  him. 

"Yo"  better  take  his  little  duds,  too,  Lucy,"  suggested 
Pluto,  as  the  boy  was  toddling  away  with  her,  contentedly, 


246  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

rich  in  the  possession  of  two  little  fists  full  of  sweet  things ; 
"they're  tied  up  in  that  bandana — not  the  blue  one !  That 
blue  one  got  some  o'  his  mammy's  things  I  gwine  look  over ; 
maybe  might  be  something  make  him  shirts  or  aprons,  an' 
if  there  is  a  clean  dress  in  that  poke  I — I  like  to  have  it  put 
on  'im  'fore  she  sees  him — Madame  Caron,  an',  an'  Mist'ess, 
o'  course  !  I  like  her  to  see  he's  worth  while." 

Then  he  asked  questions  about  what  all  had  been  done  in 
his  absence,  and  learned  there  had  been  company  coming 
and  going  so  much  Mahs  Loring  had  his  meals  in  his  own 
room,  '"cause  o'  the  clatter  they  made."  Margeret  had  been 
over  at  the  Pines  with  Miss  Loring  to  see  about  the  work  al 
ready  commenced  there,  and  Madame  Caron  and  Miss  Lena 
and  Dr.  Delaven  just  amused  themselves. 

He  learned  that  the  mail  had  been  detained  and  no  one 
had  gone  for  it,  and,  tired  though  he  was,  started  at  once. 
He  had  noticed  Madame  Caron's  mail  was  of  daily  import 
ance,  and  it  should  not  be  neglected  by  him  even  if  company 
did  make  the  others  forgetful. 

He  was  especially  pleased  that  he  had  gone,  when  the 
postmaster  handed  over  to  him,  besides  several  other  letters 
and  papers,  a  large,  important-looking  envelope  for  the 
Marquis  de  Caron — a  title  difficult  for  Pluto  to  spell; 
though  he  recognized  it  at  sight. 

The  lady  herself  was  on  the  veranda,  in  riding  garb,  when 
he  presented  himself,  and  she  smiled  as  she  caught  sight  of 
that  special  envelope  among  the  rest. 

"Margeret  tells  me  you  brought  back  the  boy,"  she  said, 
glancing  up,  after  peering  in  the  envelope  and  ascertaining 
its  contents,  "and,  Pluto,  you  paid  me  for  Zekal  when  you 
brought  this  letter  to  me — so  the  balance  is  even." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  247 

Pluto  made  no  comment — only  shook  his  head  and 
smiled.  He  could  not  comprehend  how  any  letter,  even  a 
big  one,  could  balance  Zekal. 

She  retired  to  her  room  to  examine  the  other  letters,  while 
Pluto  placed  the  mail  for  the  rest  at  their  several  places  on 
the  breakfast  table. 

Judithe  unfolded  the  large  enclosure  and  gave  a  sigh  of 
utter  content  as  her  eyes  rested  on  the  words  there.  They 
conveyed  to  the  Marquise  de  Caron,  of  France,  an  estate  in 
South  Carolina  outlined  and  described  and  known  as  Lor- 
ingwood.  The  house  was  sold  furnished  as  it  stood,  and 
there  followed  an  inventory  of  contents,  excepting  only 
family  china  and  portraits. 

"Not  such  an  unlucky  journey,  after  all,  despite  the  cof 
fins  in  the  tea  cups,"  and  she  smiled  at  the  fearful  fancies  of 
Louise,  as  she  laid  the  paper  aside ;  for  the  time  it  had  made 
her  forget  there  were  other  things  equally  important. 

There  was  another  letter,  without  signature.  It  said: 
"McVeigh  is  in  Charleston,  detained  by  official  matters. 
Pierson  leaves  with  particulars.  Mail  too  irregular  to  be 
reliable.  Your  latest  word  from  Columbia  most  valuable; 
we  transmitted  it  as  you  suggested.  Your  location  fortu 
nate.  The  Powers  at  W.  delighted  with  your  success,  but 
doubtful  of  your  safety — unhealthy  climate  except  for  the 
natives  !  Report  emancipation  will  be  proclaimed,  but  noth 
ing  definite  heard  yet." 

She  removed  her  habit  and  joined  the  rest  at  the  breakfast 
table,  clad  in'the  daintiest  of  pink  morning  gowns,  and  lis 
tened  with  pleased  surprise  to  Mrs.  McVeigh's  information 
that  her  son,  the  Colonel,  might  be  expected  at  any  time. 
They  had  passed  the  blockade  successfully,  reached  Charles 
ton  two  nights  before ;  were  detained  by  official  matters,  and 
hoped,  surely,  to  reach  home  within  twenty-four  hours  after 


248  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

the  letter.  His  stay,  however,  would  have  to  be  brief,  as  he 
must  move  north  at  once  with  his  regiment. 

And  in  the  midst  of  the  delight,  Judithe  created  a  sensa 
tion  by  remarking : 

"Well,  my  good  people,  I  am  not  going  to  allow  the 
Colonel  all  the  surprise.  I  have  had  one  of  my  own  this 
morning,  and  I  can  scarcely  wait  to  share  it  with  you.  It  is 
the  most  astonishing  thing !"  and  she  glanced  around  at  the 
expectant  faces. 

"If  it's  of  interest  to  you,  it  will  be  the  wide  world's  worth 
to  us,"  affirmed  Delaven,  with  exaggerated  show  of  devo 
tion,  at  which  she  laughed  happily,  and  turned  to  her 
hostess. 

"You  remember  I  informed  you  in  Mobile  I  meant  to  sell 
my  Orleans  property,  as  I  would  not  occupy  it  under  exist 
ing  rule;"  to  which  explanation  Matthew  Loring  actually 
beamed  commendation,  "well,  I  left  it  in  the  hands  of  my 
business  man  with  orders  to  invest  the  money  from  the  sale 
in  some  interior  plantations  not  under  Federal  control.  I 
wanted  a  house  furnished,  colonial  by  choice — some  histori 
cal  mansion  preferred.  The  particular  reason  for  this  is,  I 
have  no  relatives,  no  children  to  provide  for,  and  the  fancy 
has  come  to  me  for  endowing  some  educational  institution  in 
your  land,  and  for  such  purpose  a  mansion  such  as  I  sug 
gested  would,  in  all  ways  be  preferable.  Well,  they  for 
warded  me  a  list  of  properties.  I  sent  them  back  unread  lest 
I  should  covet  them  all,  for  they  all  would  cost  so  little ! 
I  repeated  to  them  the  description  Madame  McVeigh  had 
given  me  of  your  ancestral  home,  my  dear  sir,  and  told  them 
to  secure  me  a  property  possessing  just  such  advantages  as 
yours  does — near  enough  to  the  coast  for  yachting,  and  far 
enough  from  cities  to  be  out  of  social  chains,  except  the 
golden  one  of  friendship,"  she  added,  letting  her  eyes  rest 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  249 

graciously  on  her  listeners.  "Well,  can  you  surmise  the  re 
sult  of  that  order?" 

Each  looked  at  the  other  in  wonder;  her  smile  told  half 
the  truth. 

"I  am  afraid  to  put  my  surmise  in  words,"  confessed  Mrs. 
McVeigh,  "for  fear  of  disappointment." 

"I'm  not !"  and  Evilena  flourished  her  napkin  to  empha 
size  her  delight,  "its  Loringwood !  Oh,  oh,  Madame  Caron, 
you've  bought  Loringwood !" 

Margeret  was  entering  the  room  with  a  small  tray  con 
taining  something  for  Mr.  Loring,  whose  meals  she  pre 
pared  personally.  Delaven,  who  was  facing  her,  saw  her 
grow  ashen,  and  her  eyes  closed  as  though  struck  a  physical 
blow ;  a  glass  from  the  tray  shivered  on  the  floor,  as  he 
sprang  up  and  saved  her  from  falling. 

"What  ails  you,  Margeret  ?"  asked  Gertrude,  with  the  ring 
of  the  silver  sounding  through  her  tones.  "There — she  is 
all  right  again,  Dr.  Delaven.  Don't  come  into  the  dining 
room  in  future  unless  you  feel  quite  well.  Uncle  can't  en 
dure  crashes,  or  nervous  people,  about  him." 

"I  know ;  I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Gertrude,  Mistress  Mc 
Veigh,"  and  Margeret's  manner  was  above  reproach  in  its 
respectful  humility,  though  Delaven  observed  that  the  firm 
lips  were  white;  "the  kitchen  was  very  warm.  I — I  was 
faint  for  a  minute." 

"Never  mind  about  the  glass,  Caroline  will  pick  it  up," 
said  Mrs.  McVeigh,  kindly ;  "you  go  lay  down  awhile,  it  is 
very  warm  in  the  kitchen.  Dilsey  always  will  have  a  tre 
mendous  fire,  even  to  fry  an  egg  on  ;  go  along  now — go  rest 
where  its  cool." 

Margeret  bent  her  head  in  mute  acknowledgment  of  the 
kindness,  and  passed  out  of  the  room.  Mr.  Loring  had 


250  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

pushed  his  plate  away  with  an  impatient  frown,  signifying 
that  breakfast  was  over  for  him,  any  way. 

Delaven,  noticing  his  silence  and  the  grim  expression  on 
his  face,  wondered  if  he,  too,  was  doubtful  of  that  excuse 
uttered  by  the  woman.  The  kitchen,  no  doubt,  was  warm, 
but  he  had  seen  her  face  as  she  heard  Evilena's  delighted 
exclamation ;  it  was  the  certainty  that  Loringwood  was  act 
ually  sold — Loringwood,  and  that  grave  under  the  pines? 
Possibly  she  had  fostered  hope  that  it  might  not  be  yet — 
not  for  a  long  time,  and  the  suddenness  of  it  had  been  like  a 
physical  shock  to  the  frail,  devoted  woman.  He  had  rea 
soned  it  out  like  that,  and  his  warm,  Irish  heart  ached  for 
her  as  she  left  the  room,  and,  glancing  about  the  table,  he 
concluded  that  only  Matthew  Loring  and  himself  suspected 
the  truth,  or  knew  the  real  reason  of  her  emotion,  though  the 
eyes  of  the  Marquise  did  show  a  certain  frank  questioning  as 
they  met  his  own. 

"Margeret's  fit  just  frightened  the  plantation  away  for  a 
minute,"  resumed  Evilena,  "but  do  own  up,  Madame  Caron, 
is  it  Loringwood  ?" 

"Yes,"  assented  Tudithe,  "the  letter  from  my  lawyer,  this 
morning,  informs  me  it  is  really  Loringwood." 

"I  am  very  much  pleased  to  hear  it,  Madame,"  and  Mat 
thew  Loring's  tone  was  unusually  hearty.  "Since  we  part 
with  it  at  all,  I  am  pleased  that  no  scrub  stock  gets  posses 
sion.  The  place  is  perfectly  adapted  to  the  use  you  have 
planned,  and  instead  of  falling  into  neglect,  the  old  home 
will  become  a  monument  to  progress." 

"So  I  hope,"  replied  Judithe,  with  a  subtle  light,  as  of 
stars,  in  the  depths  of  her  eyes  ;  "I  am  especially  delighted  to 
find  that  the  old  furnishings  remain ;  it  would  be  difficult  for 
me  to  collect  articles  so  in  keeping  with  the  entire  scheme  of 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  251 

arrangement,  and  it  would  make  a  discord  to  introduce  new 
things  from  the  shops." 

"You  will  find  no  discords  of  that  sort  at  Loringwood," 
said  Gertrude,  speaking  for  the  first  time ;  "and,  I  hope,  not 
many  of  any  kind.  Many  of  the  heavy,  massive  old  things 
I  disliked  to  part  with,  but  they  would  be  out  of  place  at  the 
Pines,  or,  in  fact,  in  any  house  less  spacious.  Like  uncle,  I 
am  pleased  it  goes  into  the  keeping  of  one  who  appreciates 
the  artistic  fitness  of  the  old-fashioned  furnishings." 

"Which  she  has  never  seen  yet,"  supplemented  Evilena, 
as  Judithe  received  this  not  very  cordial  compliment  with  a 
little  bow  and  a  brilliant  smile. 

"We  will  remedy  that  just  as  soon  as  we  can  secure  an 
invitation  from  the  present  lady  of  the  manor,"  she  said,  in 
mock  confidence  to  Evilena,  across  the  table,  at  which  the 
rest  laughed,  and  Mr.  Loring  declared  that  now  she  was  the 
lady  of  the  manor  herself,  and  his  one  regret  was  that  he 
and  his  niece  were  not  there  to  make  her  first  entrance  a 
welcome  one. 

"That  would  certainly  add  to  the  pleasure  of  the  visit," 
and  her  smile  was  most  gracious.  "But  even  your  wish  to 
welcome  me  makes  it  all  the  more  delightful.  I  shall  re 
member  it  when  I  first  enter  the  door." 

Gertrude  made  an  effort  to  be  cordial,  but  that  it  was  an 
effort  Mrs.  McVeigh  easily  discerned,  and  when  they  were 
alone,  she  turned  to  her  in  wonder : 

"What  is  it,  dear  ?  Are  you  displeased  about  the  sale  ?  I 
feel  so  responsible  for  it ;  but  I  fancied  it  would  be  just  what 
you  would  want." 

"So  it  is,  too ;  but — oh,  I  had  no  idea  it  could  all  be  settled 
so  quickly  as  this !" 

"When  people  never  hesitate  to  telegraph,  even  about 
trifles,  and  Judithe  never  does,  they  can  have  business  affairs 


252  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

moved  very  quickly,"  explained  Mrs.  McVeigh ;  "but  what 
possible  reason  have  you  for  objecting  to  the  settlement?" 

"I  don't  object,  but — you  will  think  me  silly,  perhaps — 
but,  I  am  sorry  it  is  out  of  our  hands  before  Kenneth  re 
turns.  I  should  like  to  have  him  go  over  the  old  place,  just 
once,  before  strangers  claim  it." 

"Never  mind,  dear,  the  nearer  you  are  to  the  Terrace  the 
better  Kenneth  will  like  it,  and  the  Pines  is  a  great  im 
provement  in  that  way." 

"Yes ;  still  it  was  at  Loringwood  I  first  saw  him.  Do  you 
remember?  You  folks  had  just  moved  here  from  Mobile ;  it 
was  my  tenth  birthday,  and  I  had  a  party.  Kenneth  was 
the  beau  of  the  whole  affair,  because  he  was  a  new-comer, 
and  a  'town  boy,'  and,  I  remember,  we  compared  ages  and 
found  that  he  was  three  months  older  than  I,  and  for  a  long 
time  he  assumed  superior  airs  in  consequence,"  and  she 
smiled  at  the  remembrance.  "Well,  Uncle  Matthew  is  de 
lighted,  and  I  suppose  I  should  be.  It  ends  all  our  money 
troubles  for  awhile,  any  way.  Now,  what  are  you  planning 
for  Kenneth's  home  coming?  All  the  people  will  want  to 
see  him." 

"And  so  they  shall.  We  certainly  can  depend  on  him  for 
tomorrow  night,  and  we  will  have  a  party.  Pluto  shall  start 
with  the  invitations  at  once." 

And  Pluto  did,  just  as  soon  as  he  had  brought  Zekal 
around  for  an  inspection,  which  proved  so  entirely  satis 
factory  that  Evilena  threatened  to  adopt  him  right  away. 
He  should  be  her  own  especial  boy  soon  as  he  was  big 
enough  to  run  errands,  which  statement  appeared  to  make 
an  impression  on  Zekal  not  anticipated,  for  he  so  delighted 
to  gaze  on  the  pretty  young  white  lady  who  petted  him,  that 
he  objected  lustily  to  being  removed  from  the  light  of  her 
countenance ;  and  Delaven  gave  him  a  coin  and  informed 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  253 

him  that  he  felt  like  himself,  often.  This  remark,  made  in 
the  presence  of  Madame  Caron,  who  laughed,  brought  on 
a  tilt  at  hostilities  between  himself  and  Miss  Evilena,  who 
declared  he  was  mocking  her,  and  trying  to  render  her  ridic 
ulous  in  the  eyes  of  the  only  foreigner  she  admired  exces 
sively  !  He  endeavored  to  persuade  her  to  extend  the  list  by 
warbling  "Sweet  Evilena,"  which  she  declared  she  could  not 
endure  to  hear  for  three  distinct  reasons. 

"Let's  hear  them,"  he  suggested,  continuing  the  low  hum 
ming: 

"Ten  years  have  gone  by 

And  I  have  not  one  dollar; 
Evilena  still  lives 

In  that  green  grassy  hollow." 

"There !  what  sort  of  man  would  he  be,  any  way  ?"  she  de 
manded,  "a  man  who  couldn't  earn  a  dollar  in  ten  years !" 

"Arrah,  now !  and  there's  many  a  one  of  us  travels  longer 
and  finds  less,  and  never  gets  a  song  made  about  him,  either ; 
so,  that's  your  first  reason,  is  it?" 

"And  a  very  good  one,  too !"  affirmed  the  practical  dam 
sel  ;  "do  you  want  to  hear  the  second?" 

"An'  it  please  your  sovereign  grace !" 

"Well,  it  doesn't,  for  you  can't  sing  it,"  and  she  empha 
sized  the  statement  by  flaunting  her  garden  hat  at  every 
word. 

"Me,  is  it  ?  Ah,  now,  listen  to  that !  I  can't  sing  it,  can't 
I  ?  Well,  then,  I'll  practice  it  all  day  and  every  day  until  you 
change  your  mind  about  that,  my  lady!" 

"I  shan't ;  for  I've  heard  it  sung  so  much  better — and  by  a 
boy  who  wore  a  uniform — and  that's  the  third  reason." 

After  that  remark  she  walked  up  the  steps  very  deliber 
ately,  and  was  very  polite  to  him  when  they  met  an  hour 
later,  which  politeness  was  the  foundation  for  a  feud  lasting 
17 


254  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

forty-eight  hours ;  she  determined  that  his  punishment 
should  be  nothing  less  than  that ;  it  would  teach  him  not  to 
make  her  a  laughing  stock  again.  He  should  find  he  had 
not  an  Irish  girl  to  tease,  and — and  make  love  to — especially, 
before  other  folks ! 

And  to  shorten  the  season  of  her  displeasure,  he  evolved 
a  plan  promising  to  woo  the  dimples  into  her  cheeks  again, 
for,  if  nothing  but  a  uniformed  singer  was  acceptable  to  her, 
a  uniformed  singer  she  should  have.  For  the  sake  of  her 
bright  eyes  he  was  willing  to  humor  all  her  reasonable  fan 
cies — and  most  of  her  unreasonable  ones.  The  conse 
quences  of  this  particular  one,  however,  were  something  he 
could  not  foresee. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  O'Delaven,  as  he  called  himself  when  he  was  in  an 
especially  Irish  mood,  was  Mistress  McVeigh's  most  de 
voted  servant  and  helper  in  the  preparations  for  the  party. 
In  fact,  when  Judge  Clarkson  rode  over  to  pay  his  respects, 
a  puzzled  little  frown  persistently  crept  between  his  brows 
at  the  gallantry  and  assiduity  displayed  by  this  exile  of  Erin 
in  carrying  out  the  charming  lady's  orders,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  gayety,  the  almost  presumption,  with  which  he  managed 
affairs  to  suit  his  own  fancy  when  his  hostess  was  not  there 
to  give  personal  attention ;  and  the  child  Evilena  was  very 
nearly,  if  not  quite  ignored,  or  at  any  rate,  was  treated  in  a 
condescending  manner  almost  parental  in  its  character,  and 
which  he  perceived  was  as  little  relished  by  the  girl  as  by 
himself. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  255 

He  was  most  delighted,  of  course,  to  learn  who  was  the 
purchaser  of  Loringwood — it  was  such  an  admirable  trans 
action  he  felt  everybody  concerned  was  to  be  congratulated ; 
even  war  news  was  forgotten  for  a  space. 

All  the  day  passed  and  no  Kenneth !  His  mother  decided 
he  would  be  there  the  following  morning,  and,  with  flags 
draped  over  walls,  and  all  the  preparations  complete  for  his 
reception,  she  retired,  weary  and  happy  from  the  day's 
labors. 

Judithe  eyed  those  flags  with  the  same  inscrutable  smile 
sometimes  given  to  Matthew  Loring's  compliments.  She 
pointed  to  them  next  morning,  when  Delaven  and  herself 
stood  in  the  hall  waiting  for  their  horses.  She  had  accepted 
him  as  cavalier  for  the  time,  and  they  were  going  for  a  ride 
in  the  cool  of  the  morning  before  the  others  were  stirring. 

Margeret  was  in  sight,  however — Judithe  wondered  if  she 
ever  slept — and  she  came  to  them  with  delicious  coffee  and 
crisp  toasf,  and  watched  them  as  they  rode  away. 

It  was  while  sipping  the  steaming  coffee  the  flags  were 
noticed,  and  Judithe  remarked :  "Those  emblems  mean  so 
much  down  here,  yet  I  never  hear  you  discuss  them,  or  what 
they  stand  for.  Your  nation  is  one  always  in  rebellion 
against  its  unsympathetic  governess.  I  should  think  you 
would  naturally  tend  towards  the  seceders  here." 

"I  do — towards  several,  individually,"  and  he  looked  at 
her  over  the  rim  of  the  cup  with  quizzical  blue  eyes.  "But 
I  find  three  factions  here  instead  of  two,  and  my  people  have 
been  too  long  under  the  oppressor  for  me  not  to  appreciate 
what  freedom  would  mean  to  these  serfs  in  the  South,  and 
how  wildly  they  long  for  it.  No ;  I  like  the  Southerners 
better  than  the  Northerners,  because  I  know  them  better; 
but  in  the  matter  of  sympathy,  faith !  I  forget  both  the  war- 


256  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

ring  factions  and  only  think  of  Sambo  and  Sambo's  wife 
and  children." 

Judithe  raised  her  finger,  as  Margeret  entered  with  the 
toast  and  quietly  vanished. 

"I  was  afraid  she  would  hear  you.  I  fancy  they  must  feel 
sensitive  over  the  situation ;  speak  French,  please.  What 
was  it  the  Judge  was  saying  about  emancipation  last  even 
ing  ?  I  noticed  the  conversation  was  changed  as  Mr.  Loring 
grew — well,  excited." 

"Oh,  the  old  story;  rumors  again  that  the  Federal  gov 
ernment  mean  to  proclaim  freedom  for  the  blacks.  But 
when  it  was  done  in  two  states  by  the  local  authorities,  it 
was  vetoed  at  Washington ;  so  it  is  doubtful  after  all  if  it  is 
true,  there  are  so  many  rumors  afloat.  But  if  it  is  done  there 
will  be  nothing  vague  about  it.  I  fancy  it  will  be  said  so 
good  and  loud  that  there  will  be  a  panic  from  ocean  to 
ocean." 

"Insurrection?" 

"No ;  the  Judge  is  right ;  there  is  a  peculiar  condition  of 
affairs  here  precluding  the  possibility  of  that  unless  in  iso 
lated  instances,  a  certain  personal  sympathy  between  master 
and  slave  which  a  foreigner  finds  difficult  of  comprehen 
sion." 

"What  about  the  runaways?"  she  asked,  with  a  little  air 
of  check,  "several  of  them  have  escaped  the  sympathetic 
bonds  in  that  way ;  in  fact,  they  tell  me  Mr.  Loring,  or  his 
niece,  has  lately  lost  some  very  valuable  live  stock  through 
that  tendency." 

"Whisper  now ! — though  I  believe  it  is  a  very  open  secret 
in  the  community,  the  gentleman  in  question,  my  dear  Mar 
quise,  is  one  of  the  isolated  instances.  If  you  are  studying 
social  institutions  in  this  country  you  must  make  a  note  of 
that,  and  underline  it  with  red  ink.  He  is  by  no  means  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  257 

typical  Southerner.  He  is,  however,  a  proof  of  the  fact  that 
it  is  a  dangerous  law  which  allows  every  one  possessing 
wealth  an  almost  unlimited  power  over  scores  of  human 
beings.  To  be  sure,  he  is  mild  as  skim-milk  these  days  of 
convalescence,  but  there  are  stories  told  of  the  use  he  made 
of  power  when  he  dared,  that  would  warrant  the  whole  pack 
taking  to  their  heels  if  they  had  the  courage.  They  are  not 
stories  for  ladies'  ears,  however,  and  I  doubt  if  Miss  Loring 
herself  is  aware  of  them.  But  in  studying  the  country  here, 
don't  forget  that  my  patient  is  one  in  a  thousand — better 
luck  to  the  rest." 

"So !"  and  she  arose,  drawing  on  her  glove  slowly,  and 
regarding  him  with  a  queer  little  smile;  "you  have  been 
giving  thought  to  something  besides  the  love  songs  of  this 
new  country?  Your  ideas  are  very  interesting.  I  shall  re 
member  them,  even  without  the  red  ink." 

Then  they  mounted  the  impatient  horses  and  rode  out  in 
the  pink  flush  of  the  morning — the  only  hours  cool  enough 
for  the  foreigners  to  exercise  at  that  season.  They  were 
going  no  place  in  particular,  but  when  the  cross-country 
road  was  reached  leading  to  Loringwood,  she  suddenly 
turned  to  him  and  proposed  that  he  conduct  her  to  her  new 
purchase — introduce  her  to  Loringwood. 

"With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  he  assented  gaily,  some 
what  curious  to  see  how  she  would  like  the  "pig  in  a  poke," 
as  he  designated  her  business  transaction. 

When  they  reached  the  gate  she  dismounted  and  insisted 
on  walking  through  the  long  avenue  she  had  admired.  He 
was  going  to  lead  the  horses,  but  she  said,  "No,  tie  them 
to  the  posts  there,  they  were  both  well  behaved,  tractable 
animals ;  she  could  speak  for  her  mount  at  any  rate.  Pluto 
had  told  her  it  was  Col.  McVeigh's  favorite,  trained  by 
himself. 


258  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

She  wore  a  thin  silken  veil  of  palest  grey  circling  her 
hat,  covering  her  face,  and  the  end  fastened  in  fluffy  loops  on 
her  bosom.  Her  habit  was  of  cadet  grey,  with  a  military 
dash  of  braid  on  epaulettes  and  cuff ;  the  entire  costume  was 
perfect  in  its  harmonious  lines,  and  admirably  adapted  to 
the  girlish  yet  stately  figure.  Delaven,  looking  at  her, 
thought  that  in  all  the  glories  of  the  Parisian  days  he  had 
never  seen  la  belle  Marquise  more  delightful  to  the  eye  than 
on  that  oft-to-be-remembered  September  morning. 

She  was  unusually  silent  as  they  walked  along  the 
avenue,  but  her  eyes  were  busy  and  apparently  pleased  at 
the  prospect  before  her,  and  when  they  reached  the  front  of 
the  house  she  halted,  surveyed  the  whole  place  critically, 
from  the  lazy  wash  of  the  river  landing  to  the  great  pillars  of 
the  veranda,  and  drew  a  little  breath  of  content. 

"Just  what  I  expected,"  she  remarked,  in  reply  to  his  ques 
tion.  "I  hope  the  river  is  not  too  shallow.  Can  we  go  in  ? 
I  should  like  to,  but  not  as  the  owner,  please.  They  need 
not  know  of  the  sale  until  the  Lorings  choose  to  tell  them." 

Little  Raquel  had  opened  the  door,  very  much  pleased  at 
their  arrival.  She  informed  them  "Aunt  Chloe  laid  up 
with  some  sort  of  misery,  and  Betsey,  who  was  in  the  cook 
house,  she  see  them  comen'  an'  she  have  some  coffee  for 
them  right  off,"  and  she  was  proceeding  with  other  affairs  of 
entertainment  when  Judithe  interrupted : 

"No  coffee,  nothing  for  me.  Now,  Doctor,  if  you  want  to 
show  me  the  library ;  you  know  we  must  not  linger,  this  is 
to  be  a  busy  day  at  the  Terrace." 

They  had  gone  through  the  lower  rooms,  of  which  she  had 
little  to  say.  He  had  shown  her  the  dashing  portrait  of 
Marmeduke  Loring  and  given  her  a  suggestion  of  the  char 
acter  as  heard  from  Nelse.  He  had  shown  her  the  pretty, 
seraphic  portrait  of  Gertrude  as  a  little  child,  and  the  fair, 


THE'  BONDWOMAN.  259 

handsome  face  of  Tom  Loring,  as  it  looked  down  from  the 
canvas  with  a  smile  for  all  the  world  in  his  genial  eyes. 

They  had  made  no  further  progress  when  Raquel  ap 
peared  upon  the  scene  again  with  a  request  from  Aunt 
Chloe,  "Would  Mails  Doctor  come  roun'  an'  tell  her  jest 
what  ailed  her  most,  she  got  so  many  cu'eous  comperca- 
tions." 

He  followed  to  see  what  the  complications  were,  and 
thus  it  happened  that  Judithe  was  left  alone  to  look  around 
her  new  possessions. 

But  she  did  not  look  far.  After  a  brief  glance  about  she 
returned  to  the  last  portrait,  studying  the  frank,  handsome 
face  critically. 

"And  thou  wert  the  man,"  she  murmured.  "Why  don't 
such  men  bear  faces  to  suit  their  deeds,  that  all  people  may 
avoid  the  evil  of  them?  Fair,  strong,  and  appealing!"  she 
continued,  ennumerating  the  points  of  the  picture,  "and  a 
frank,  honest  gaze,  too ;  but  the  painter  had  probably  been 
false  in  that,  and  idealized  the  face.  Yet  I  have  seen  eyes 
that  were  as  honest  looking,  cover  a  vile  soul,  so  why  not 
this  one?" 

The  eyes  that  were  as  honest  looking  were  the  deep  sea- 
blue  eyes  she  had  described  once  to  Dumaresque,  confessing 
with  light  mockery  their  witchcraft  over  her;  she  thanked 
God  those  days  were  over.  She  had  now  something  more 
to  dream  over  than  sentimental  fancies. 

She  heard  the  quick  beat  of  horse  hoofs  coming  up  the 
avenue  and  stopping  at  the  door ;  then,  a  man's  voice : 

"Good  morning,  Jeff — any  of  our  folks  over  from  the  Ter 
race  ?" 

"Yes,  sah ;  good  mawn,  sah ;  leastwise  I  jest  saw  Miss 
Gertrude  go  in ;  they  all  stayen'  ovah  at  Terrace ;  I  reckon 


260  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she  rode  back  for  something.  I  reckon  you  find  her  in 
library ;  window's  open  thah." 

The  man's  voice  replied  from  the  hall,  "All  right,"  and  he 
opened  the  door. 

"Good  morning,  little  woman,"  he  said,  cheerily,  boyishly. 
"'When  I  saw  Hector  at  the  gate  with  the  side  saddle  I 
thought—" 

What  he  thought  was  left  unfinished.  The  slender  figure 
in  grey  turned  from  the  window,  and  throwing  back  the 
veil  with  one  hand  extended  the  other  to  him,  with  an 
amused  smile  at  his  mistake. 

"Jitdithe !"  He  had  crossed  the  room  ;  he  held  her  hand  in 
both  of  his ;  he  could  not  otherwise  believe  in  the  reality  of 
her  presence.  In  dreams  he  had  seen  her  so  often  thus,  with 
the  smile  and  the  light  as  of  golden  stars  deep  in  the  brown 
eyes. 

"Welcome  to  Loringwood,  Col.  McVeigh,"  she  said, 
softly. 

"Your  welcome  could  make  it  the  most  delightful  home 
coming  of  my  life,"  he  said,  looking  down  at  her,  "if  I  dared 
be  sure  I  was  quite  welcome  to  your  presence." 

"I  am  your  mother's  guest,"  and  she  met  his  gaze  with 
cordial  frankness ;  "would  that  be  so  if — oh,  yes,  you  may 
be  very  sure  I  am  pleased  to  see  you  home  again,  and  es 
pecially  pleased  to  see  you  here." 

"You  are?  Judithe,  I  beg  pardon,"  as  she  raised  her 
brows  in  slight  question.  "I  am  not  accountable  this  morn 
ing,  Marquise ;  with  a  little  time  to  recover  myself  in,  I  may 
grow  more  rational.  To  find  you  here  is  as  much  a  sur 
prise  as  though  I  had  met  you  alone  at  sea  in  an  open 
boat." 

"Alone — at  sea — in  an  open  boat,"  she  repeated,  with  a 
curious  inflection  ;  "but  you  perceive,  Col.  McVeigh,  the  sit- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  261 

uation  is  not  at  all  like  that.  I  am  under  my  own  roof  tree, 
and  a  very  substantial  one  it  is,"  with  a  comprehensive 
glance  about  the  imposing  apartment ;  "and  you  are  the  first 
guest  I  have  welcomed  here — I  am  much  pleased  that  it 
happened  so."  When  he  stared  at  this  bit  of  information  she 
continued :  "I  have  just  made  purchase  of  the  estate  from 
your  friends,  the  Lorings — this  is  my  first  visit  to  it,  and  you 
are  my  first  caller.  You  perceive  I  am  really  your  neighbor, 
Monsieur." 

His  eyes  were  bent  on  her  with  mute  question;  it  all 
seemed  so  incredible  that  she  should  come  there  at  all — to 
his  country,  to  his  home.  He  had  left  France  cursing  her 
coquetry ;  he  had,  because  of  her,  gone  straight  to  the  fron 
tier  on  his  return  to  America,  and  lived  the  life  of  camps 
ever  since ;  he  had  fancied  no  woman  would  ever  again  hold 
the  sway  over  him  she  had  held  for  that  one  brief  season. 
Yet  the  graciousness  of  her  tone,  the  frank  smile  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  touch  of  her  hand — the  beautiful  hand ! — 

Delaven  came  in,  and  there  were  more  explanations ;  then, 
to  the  regret  of  Raquel  and  Betsey,  they  left  for  the  Ter 
race  without  partaking  of  the  specially  prepared  coffee. 
Col.  McVeigh  had  ridden  from  the  coast  with  a  party  of  the 
state  guard,  who  were  going  to  the  river  fortifications. 
Seeing  his  own  saddle  horse  at  the  gate  he  had  let  them  go 
on  to  the  Terrace  without  him,  while  he  stopped,  thinking 
to  find  his  mother  or  sister  there. 

The  new  mistress  of  Loringwood  listened  with  an  inter 
ested  expression  to  this  little  explanation,  and  no  one  would 
have  thought  there  was  any  special  motive  in  leaving  the 
horse  tied  there  on  the  only  road  he  would  be  likely  to 
come,  or  that  his  statement  that  he  traveled  with  a  party  of 
military  friends  conveyed  a  distinct  message  to  her  of  work 
to  be  done. 


262  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

She  did  not  fail  to  notice  that  Col.  McVeigh  was  a  much 
handsomer  man  than  the  lieutenant  had  been.  He  appeared 
taller,  heavier — a  stalwart  soldier,  who  had  lost  none  of  his 
impetuousness,  and  had  even  gained  in  self  confidence,  but 
for  all  that  the  light  of  boyhood  was  in  his  eyes  as  he  looked 
at  her,  and  she,  well  satisfied  that  it  was  so,  rode  happily  to 
the  Terrace  beside  him,  only  smiling  when  he  pointed  out  a 
clump  of  beeches  and  said  he  never  passed  without  think 
ing  of  the  trees  at  Fontainbleau. 

"And,"  with  a  little  mocking  glance,  "do  the  violets  and 
forget-me-nots  also  grow  among  the  bushes  here?" 

"Yes  ;"  and  he  returned  her  mocking  look  with  one  so  de 
liberate  that  her  eyes  dropped,  "the  forget-me-not  is  hardy 
in  my  land,  you  know ;  it  lives  always  if  encouraged." 

"Heavens ! — will  the  man  propose  to  me  again  before  we 
reach  the  house  or  have  breakfast  ?"  she  thought,  and  con 
cluded  it  more  wise  to  drop  such  dangerous  topics.  Until 
her  expected  messenger  came  she  could  not  quite  decide 
what  was  to  be  done  or  what  methods  employed. 

"Forget-me-nots,  is  it?"  queried  Delaven,  in  strict  con 
fidence  with  himself ;  "oh,  but  you've  been  clever,  the  pair  of 
you,  to  get  so  far  as  forget-me-nots,  and  no  one  the  wiser ; 
then  aloud  he  said,  "I've  an  idea  that  the  best  beloved  man 
on  the  plantation  this  day  will  be  the  one  who  announces 
your  coming,  Colonel;  so  if  you'll  look  after  Madame  la 
Marquise — " 

And  then  he  dashed  ahead  congratulating  himself  on  the 
way  he  was  helping  the  Colonel. 

"It's  well  to  have  a  friend  at  court,"  he  decided,  "and  its 
myself  may  need  all  I  can  get — for  pill  boxes  are  a  bad  bal 
ance  for  plantations,  Fitz ;  faith,  they'll  be  flung  to  the  moon 
at  first  tilt." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  263 

The  two  left  alone  had  three  miles  to  go  and  seemed  likely 
to  make  the  journey  in  silence.  She  was  a  trifle  dismayed 
at  Delaven's  desertion,  and  could  find  no  more  light  words. 
She  attempted  some  questions  concerning  the  blockade,  but 
his  replies  showed  his  thoughts  were  elsewhere. 

"It  is  no  use,"  he  said,  abruptly.  "I  have  only  forty-eight 
hours  to  remain ;  I  may  not  see  you  again  for  a  year,  per 
haps,  never,  for  I  go  at  once  to  the  front.  There  is  only 
one  thought  in  my  mind,  and  you  know  what  it  is." 

"To  conquer  the  Yankees  ?"  she  hazarded. 

"No,  to  conquer  some  pride  or  whim  of  the  girl  who  con 
fessed  once  that  she  loved  me." 

"Take  my  advice,  Monsieur,"  she  said  with  a  cool 
little  smile.  "No  doubt  you  have  been  fortunate  enough 
to  hear  those  words  many  times — I  should  think  it  quite 
probable,"  and  she  let  her  eyes  rest  approvingly  for  a  mo 
ment  on  his  face ;  "but  it  is  well  to  consider  the  girls  who 
make  those  avowals  before  you  place  full  credence  on  the 
statement— not  that  they  always  mean  to  deceive,"  she 
amended,  "but  those  three  words  have  a  most  peculiar  fas 
cination  for  girlhood — they  like  to  use  them  even  when  they 
do  not  comprehend  the  meaning." 

He  shook  his  head  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"It  is  no  use,  Madame  la  Marquise,"  he  said,  and  the  ar» 
dent  eyes  met  her  own  and  made  her  conscious  of  a  sudden 
fear.  "You  reason  it  out  very  well — philosophy  is  one  of 
your  hobbies,  isn't  it  ?  I  always  detested  women  with  hob 
bies — the  strong-minded  women  who  reason  instead  of  feel 
ing  ;  and  now  you  are  revenging  the  whole  army  of  them  by 
making  me  feel  beyond  reason.  But  you  shan't  evade  me  by 
such  tactics.  Do  you  remember  what  your  last  spoken 
words  to  me  were,  three  years  ago  ?" 


264  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Her  face  paled  a  little,  she  lifted  the  bridle  to  urge  her 
horse  onward,  but  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  wrist. 

"No,  pardon  me,  but  I  must  speak  to  you — day  and 
night  I  have  thought  of  them,  and  now  that  you  are  here — 
oh,  I  know  you  sent  me  away — that  is,  you  hid  from  me; 
and  why,  Judithe?  I  believe  on  my  soul  it  was  because 
you  meant  those  words  when  you  said:  "/  love  you  now, 
and  from  the  first  moment  you  ever  looked  at  me\"  I  told 
myself  at  first,  when  I  left  France,  that  it  was  all  false 
hood,  coquetry — but  I  could  not  keep  that  belief,  for  the 
words  rang  too  true — you  thought  you  were  going  over  that 
bank  to  death,  and  all  your  heart  was  in  your  voice  and  your 
eyes.  That  moment  has  come  back  to  me  a  thousand  times 
since;  has  been  with  me  in  the  thick  of  battle,  singing 
through  my  ears  as  the  bullets  whistled  past.  7  love  you  now, 
and  from  the  first  moment  you  ever  looked  at  me.'  It  is  no 
use  to  pretend  you  did  not  mean  those  words  then.  I  know 
in  my  heart  you  did.  You  were  bound  in  some  way,  no 
doubt,  and  fancied  you  had  no  right  to  say  them.  The  an 
nouncement  of  your  engagement  suggested  that.  But  you 
are  free  now,  or  you  would  not  be  here,  and  I  must  be 
heard." 

"Be  satisfied  then,"  she  replied,  indifferently,  though  her 
hand  trembled  on  the  bridle,  "you  perceive  you  have, 
thanks  to  your  stronger  arm,  an  audience  of  one." 

"You  are  angry  at  my  presumption — angry  at  the  advan 
tage  I  have  taken  of  the  situation?"  he  asked.  "I  grant  you 
are  right ;  but  remember,  it  is  now  or  perhaps  never  with  me ; 
and  it  is  the  presumption  of  love — a  woman  should  forgive 
that." 

"They  usually  do,  Monsieur,"  she  replied,  with  a  little 
shrug  and  glance  of  amusement.  For  one  bewildered  in 
stant  she  had  lost  control  of  herself,  and  had  only  the  desire 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  265 

to  flee;  but  it  was  all  over  now,  she  remembered  another 
point  to  be  made  in  the  game — something  to  postpone  the 
finale  until  she  had  seen  Pierson. 

"It  is  not  just  to  me,"  he  said,  meeting  her  mocking  glance 
with  one  that  was  steadfast  and  determined.  "However  your 
sentiments  have  changed,  I  know  you  cared  for  me  that  day, 
as  I  have  cared  for  you  ever  since,  and  now  that  you  have 
come  here — to  my  own  country,  to  my  mother's  house,  I 
surely  may  ask  this  one  question :  Why  did  you  accept  the 
love  I  offered,  and  then  toss  it  away  almost  in  the  same 
breath  ?" 

"I  may  reply  by  another  question,"  she  said,  coolly. 
"What  right  had  you  to  make  any  offers  of  love  to  me  at 
any  time  ?  What  right  have  you  now  ?" 

"What  right?" 

"Yes ;  does  your  betrothed  approve  ?  Is  that  another 
of  the  free  institutions  in  your  land  of  liberties  ?" 

"What  do  you  mean  ? — my  betrothed  ?" 

"Your  betrothed,"  she  said,  and  nodded  her  head  with 
that  same  cool  little  smile.  "I  heard  her  name  that  even 
ing  of  the  drive  you  remember  so  well ;  our  friend,  the 
Countess  Helene,  mentioned  it  to  me — possibly  for  fear  my 
very  susceptible  heart  might  be  won  by  your  protection  of 
us,"  and  she  glanced  at  him  again,  mockingly.  "You  had 
forgotten  to  mention  it  to  me,  but  it  really  does  not  mat 
ter,  I  have  learned  since  then  that  gentlemen  absolutely 
cannot  go  around  reciting  the  lists  of  former  conquests — it 
is  too  apt  to  prevent  the  acquisition  of  new  ones.  I  did  not 
realize  it  then— there  were  so  many  things  I  could  not  real 
ize  ;  and  I  felt  piqued  at  your  silence ;  but,"  with  an  expres 
sive  little  gesture  and  a  bright  smile,  "I  am  no  longer  so.  I 
come  to  your  home ;  I  clasp  hands  with  you ;  I  meet  your 
bride-elect,  Miss  Loring — she  is  remarkably  pretty,  Mon- 


266  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

sieur,  and  I  am  quite  prepared  to  dance  at  your  wedding; 
therefore — " 

"Marquise,  on  my  honor  as  a  man,"  he  did  not  see  the 
scornful  light  in  her  eyes  as  he  spoke  of  his  honor ;  "there 
has  never  been  a  word  of  love  between  Gertrude  Loring 
and  myself ;  it  is  nothing  but  family  gossip  dating  from  the 
time  we  were  children,  and  encouraged  by  her  uncle  for 
reasons  entirely  financial.  We  have  both  ignored  it.  We 
are  all  fond  of  her,  and  I  believe  my  mother  at  one  time  did 
hope  it  would  be  so  arranged,  but  I  hope  she  wins  a  better 
fellow  than  myself;  she  cares  no  more  for  me  than  I  for 
her." 

They  had  turned  into  the  Terrace  grounds.  Evilena  was 
running  out  to  meet  them.  She  was  so  close  now  she 
could  hear  what  he  said  if  it  were  not  for  her  own  swiftness. 

"Judithe !    One  word,  a  look ;  you  believe  me  ?" 

She  said  nothing,  but  she  did  flash  one  meaning  glance 
at  him,  and  then  his  sister  was  at  the  stirrup  and  he  swung 
out  of  the  saddle  to  kiss  her. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"Of  course  we  are  anxious  to  hear  all  you  dare  tell  us 
about  the  success  of  your  mission  over  there,"  said  his 
mother,  an  hour  later,  when  the  riders  had  done  justice 
to  a  delightful  breakfast.  "Are  all  the  arrangements  made 
by  our  people  entirely  satisfactory  ?" 

"Entirely,  mother.  This  is  the  twenty-second  of  Septem 
ber,  isn't  it?  Well,  it  is  an  open  secret  now.  The  vessel 
secured  goes  into  commission  today,  and  will  be  called  the 
Alabama." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  267 

"Hurrah  for  the  Alabama !"  cried  Evilena,  who  was  lean 
ing  on  the  back  of  her  brother's  chair.  He  put  his  arm 
around  her  and  turned  to  Judithe. 

"Have  you  become  acquainted  with  the  patriotic  ardor  of 
my  little  sister?"  he  asked.  "I  assure  you  we  have  to  fight 
these  days  if  we  want  to  keep  the  affections  of  our  Southern 
girls." 

Gertrude  smiled  across  the  table  at  him. 

"I  can't  fancy  you  having  to  fight  very  hard  battles  along 
that  line,  Monsieur,"  replied  Judithe,  in  the  cool,  half  mock 
ing  tone  she  had  adopted  for  all  questions  of  sentiment  with 
him ;  and  Gertrude,  who  saw  the  look  exchanged  between 
them,  arose  from  the  table. 

"Uncle  Matthew  asked  to  see  you  when  you  have  time, 
Kenneth." 

"Thanks,  yes;  I'll  go  directly.  Mother,  why  not  ask 
the  boys  of  the  guard  to  stop  over  for  your  party?  They 
are  of  Phil  Masterson's  company — all  Carolina  men." 

"Of  course,  I  shall  invite  them  personally,"  and  she  left 
the  room  to  speak  to  the  men  who  were  just  finishing 
breakfast  under  an  arbor,  and  congratulating  themselves  on 
the  good  luck  of  being  travelling  companions  of  Colonel 
McVeigh. 

Evilena  waltzed  around  the  table  in  her  delight  at  the  en 
tire  arrangement ;  boys  in  uniform ;  the  longed-for  additions 
to  the  festivities,  and  they  would  have  to  be  a  formidable  lot 
if  she  could  not  find  one  of  their  number  worth  dancing 
with ;  she  would  show  Dr.  Delaven  that  other  men  did  not 
think  her  only  a  baby  to  be  teased  ! 

"Now,  Madame  Caron,  we  can  show  you  a  regular  plan 
tation  jubilee,  for  the  darkies  shall  have  a  dance  at  the 
quarters.  You'll  like  that,  won't  you  ?" 


268  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Anything  that  expresses  the  feminine  homage  to  return 
ing  heroes,"  replied  Judithe,  with  a  little  bow  of  affected 
humility,  at  which  Colonel  McVeigh  laughed  as  he  returned 
it.  She  passed  out  of  the  door  with  his  sister  and  he  stood 
looking  after  her,  puzzled,  yet  with  hope  in  his  eyes.  His 
impetuousness  in  plunging  into  the  very  heart  of  the  ques 
tion  at  once  had,  at  any  rate,  not  angered  her,  which  was  a 
great  point  gained.  He  muttered  an  oath  when  he  realized 
that  but  for  the  Countess  Biron's  gossip  they  might  never 
have  been  separated,  for  she  did  love  him  then — he  knew  it. 
Even  today,  when  she  would  have  run  away  from  him 
again,  she  did  not  deny  that !  Forty-eight  hours  in  which  to 
win  her — and  his  smile  as  he  watched  her  disappear  had  a 
certain  grim  determination  in  it.  He  meant  to  do  it.  She 
had  grown  white  when  he  quoted  to  her  her  own  never  for 
gotten  words.  Well,  she  should  say  them  to  him  again ! 
The  hope  of  it  sent  the  blood  leaping  to  his  heart,  and 
he  turned  away  with  a  quick  sigh. 

Gertrude,  who  had  only  stepped  out  on  the  veranda  when 
she  left  the  table,  and  stood  still  by  the  open  glass  door,  saw 
the  lingering,  intense  gaze  with  which  he  followed  the  wo 
man  she  instinctively  disliked — the  woman  who  was  now 
mistress  of  Loringwood,  and  had  made  the  purchase  as  care 
lessly  as  though  it  were  a  new  ring  to  wear  on  her  white 
hand — a  new  toy  to  amuse  herself  with  in  a  new  country ; 
the  woman  who  threw  money  away  on  whims,  had  the 
manner  of  a  princess,  and  who  had  aroused  in  Gertrude  Lor- 
ing  the  first  envy  or  jealousy  she  had  ever  been  conscious  of 
in  her  pleasant,  well-ordered  life.  From  the  announcement 
that  Loringwood  had  passed  into  the  stranger's  possession 
her  heart  had  felt  like  lead  in  her  bosom.  She  could  not 
have  explained  why — it  was  more  a  presentiment  of  evil 
than  aught  else,  and  she  thought  she  knew  the  reason  of  it 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  269 

when  she  saw  that  look  in  Kenneth  McVeigh's  eyes — a  look 
she  had  never  seen  there  before. 

And  the  woman  who  had  caused  it  all  was  walking  the 
floor  of  her  own  apartment  in  a  fever  of  impatience.  If 
the  man  she  expected  would  only  come — then  she  would 
have  work  to  do — definite  plans  to  follow;  now  all  was  so 
vague,  and  those  soldiers  staying  over,  was  it  only  a  chance 
invitation,  or  was  there  a  hidden  purpose  in  that  retained 
guard  ?  Her  messenger  should  have  arrived  within  an  hour 
of  Colonel  McVeigh,  and  the  hour  was  gone.  • 

As  she  passed  the  mirror  she  caught  sight  of  her  anxious 
face  in  it,  and  halted,  staring  at  the  reflection  critically. 

"You  are  turning  coward !"  she  said,  between  her  closed 
teeth.  "You  are  afraid  to  be  left  to  yourself  an  hour  longer 
— afraid  because  of  this  man's  voice  and  the  touch  of  his 
hand.  Aren't  you  proud  of  yourself — you  1  He  is  the  beast 
whose  name  you  hated  for  years — the  man  for  whom  that 
poor  runaway  was  taught  the  graces  and  accomplishments 
of  white  women — in  this  house  you  heard  Matthew  Loring 
mention  the  price  of  her  and  the  portion  to  be  forfeited  to 
Kenneth  McVeigh  because  the  girl  was  not  to  be  found. 
Do  you  forget  that  ?  Do  you  think  I  shall  let  you  forget  it  ? 
I  shan't.  You  are  to  do  the  work  you  came  here  to  do. 
You  are  to  have  no  other  interest  in  the  people  of  this 
house." 

She  continued  her  nervous  walk  back  and  forth  across  the 
room.  She  put  aside  the  grey  habit  and  donned  a  soft, 
pretty  house-gown  of  the  same  color.  Her  hands  were  trem 
bling.  She  clasped  and  unclasped  them  with  a  despairing 
gesture. 

"It  is  not  love,"  she  whispered,  as  though  in  wild  ar 
gument  against  the  fear  of  it.  "Not  love — some  curse  in  the 
blood — that  is  what  it  is.  And  to  think  that  after  three 

18 


270  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

years — three  years  ! — it  all  comes  back  like  this.  Oh,  you 
fool,  you  fool !  Love,"  she  continued,  in  more  clear,  reason 
ing  tones,  speaking  aloud  slowly  as  though  to  impress  it  on 
her  mind,  as  a  child  will  repeat  a  lesson  to  be  learned ;  "love 
must  be  based  on  respect — what  respect  can  you  have  for 
this  buyer  of  young  girls  ? — this  ardent-eyed  animal  who  has 
the  good  fortune,  to  be  classed  as  a  gentleman.  Love  in  a 
woman's  heart  should  be  her  religion ;  what  religion  could 
be  centered  on  so  vile  a  creature?  To  look  up  to  such  a 
man,  how  low  a  woman  would  have  to  sink." 

Evilena  knocked  at  the  door  to  show  some  little  gift 
brought  by  her  brother  from  across  the  ocean,  and  Judithe 
turned  to  her  feverishly,  glad  of  some  companionship  to 
drive  away  her  dread  and  suspense  until  the  expected  mes 
senger  arrived — the  minutes  were  as  long  as  hours,  now ! 

Colonel  McVeigh  had  scarcely  more  than  greeted  Loring 
when  Pluto  announced  Captain  Masterson  and  some  otlrer 
gentleman.  Evilena  saw  them  coming  from  the  window  and 
reported  there  were  two  soldiers  besides  Captain  Masterson, 
and  a  man  in  blue  clothes,  who  aroused  her  curiosity  might 
ily.  They  were  out  of  range  before  Judithe  reached  the 
window,  but  her  heart  almost  stopped  beating  for  an  in 
stant  ;  the  man  she  expected  wore  a  blue  yachting  suit,  and 
this  sudden  gathering  of  soldiery  at  the  Terrace  ? 

Colonel  McVeigh  greeted  Masterson  cordially  and  turned 
to  the  others.  Two  were  men  in  Confederate  uniform,  just 
outside  the  door,  and  the  third  was  a  tall  man  in  the  uniform 
of  a  Federal  Captain.  His  left  wrist  was  bandaged.  He 
was  smiling  slightly  as  McVeigh's  glance  became  one  of 
doubt  for  an  instant,  and  then  brightened  into  unmistakable 
recognition. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  271 

"By  Jove,  this  is  a  surprise!"  and  he  shook  hands  cor 
dially  with  the  stranger.  "Captain  Monroe,  I  am  delighted 
to  see  you  in  our  home." 

"Thank  you;  I'm  glad  to  get  here,"  replied  Monroe,  with 
a  peculiar  look  towards  Masterson,  who  regarded  the  cor 
dial  greeting  with  evident  astonishment,  "I  had  not  ex 
pected  to  call  on  you  thi:s  morning,  but — Captain  Master- 
son  insisted." 

He  smiled  as  he  spoke — a  smile  of  amusement,  coolly 
careless  of  the  amazement  of  Masterson,  and  the  inquiry  in 
the  glance  of  McVeigh. 

"Colonel  McVeigh,  he  is  a  prisoner,"  said  Masterson,  in 
reply  to  that  glance,  and  then,  as  the  prisoner  himself  main 
tained  an  indifferent  silence,  he1  explained  further,  "We 
caught  sight  of  him  galloping  ahead  of  trs  through  the  pines, 
a  few  miles  back.  Realizing  that  we  were  near  enough  to  the 
coast  for  the  Federals  to  send  in  men-  for  special  service, 
we  challenged  him,  got  no  explanation  except  that  he  rode 
for  his  own  pleasure ;  so  I  put  him  under  arrest." 

"Well,  well !  Since  luck  has  sent  you  into  our  lines  I'm 
glad  it  has  done  us  a  good  turn  and  sent  you  to  our  home," 
said  McVeigh,  though  he  still  looked  mystified  at  the 
situation.  "I've  no  doubt  satisfactory  explanations  can  be 
made,  and  a  parole  arranged." 

"That's  good  of  you,  Colonel,"  said  the  prisoner,  appre 
ciatively  ;  "you  are  a  good  sort  of  friend  to  meet  when  in 
trouble — brother  Fred  used  to  think  so  up  at  the  Point; 
but  in  this  case  it  really  isn't  necessary — as  I  have  one  pa 
role." 

He  drew  a  paper  from  an  inner  pocket  and  passed  it  to 
McVeigh,  who.  looked  relieved. 

"Yes,  certainly,  this  is  all  right,"  and  he  looked  inquiring 
ly  at  Masterson,  "I  don't  understand — " 


272  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Neither  did  that  officer,  who  turned  in  some  chagrin  to 
to  prisoner,  who  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  in  evident 
indifference. 

"May  I  ask,"  said  Masterson,  with  cold  courtesy,  "why 
you  did  not  state  when  taken  prisoner  that  you  were  pa 
roled?" 

"Certainly,"  and  the  easy  nonchalence  of  the  other  was 
almost  insolent ;  evidently  Masterson  had  not  picked  up  an 
affinity.  "I  was  coming  your  way;  had  been  riding  alone 
for  several  hours;  and  feared  I  should  be  deprived  of  the 
pleasure  of  your  society  if  I  allowed  you  to  know  how 
harmless  I  was." 

He  paused  for  a  moment — smiled  in  a  quizzical  way  at 
McVeigh,  and  continued :  "Then  I  heard  your  orderly 
mention  Colonel  McVeigh,  whose  place  you  were  bound 
for,  and  I  did  not  object  in  the  least  to  being  brought  to  him 
for  judgment.  But  since  you  see  I  am  paroled,  as  well  as 
crippled,"  and  he  motioned  to  the  arm  which  he  moved 
carefully,  "incapable  in  any  way  of  doing  harm  to  your 
cause,  I  trust  that  a  flag  of  truce  will  be  recognized  by  you," 
and  he  extended  his  hand  in  smiling  unconcern. 

But  to  Captain  Masterson  there  was  something  irritat 
ing  in  the  smile,  and  he  only  bowed  coldly,  ignoring  the  flag 
of  truce,  upon  which  Captain  Monroe  seemed  quietly 
amused  as  he  turned  to  McVeigh  and  explained  that  he  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner  a  month  before  over  in  Tennes 
see  by  Morgan's  cavalry,  who  had  gathered  in  Johnson's 
brigade  so  effectively  that  General  Johnson,  his  staff,  and 
somewhere  between  two  and  three  hundred  others  had  been 
taken  prisoners.  He,  Monroe,  had  found  a  Carolina  relative 
badly  wounded  among  Morgan's  boys,  had  secured  a  parole, 
and  brought  the  young  fellow  home  to  die,  and  when  his 
own  wound  was  in  a  fair  way  to  take  care  of  itself  he  had  left 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  273 

the  place — a  plantation  south  of  Allendaie,  and  headed  for 
the  coast  to  connect  with  the  blockading  fleet  instead  of 
making  the  journey  north  through  Richmond. 

It  was  a  very  clear  statement,  but  Masterson  listened  to 
it  suspiciously,  without  appearing  to  listen  at  all.  McVeigh 
who  had  known  both  Monroe  and  his  family  in  the  North, 
and  was  also  acquainted  with  the  Carolina  family  men 
tioned,  accepted  the  Federal's  story  without  question,  and 
invited  him  to  remain  at  the  Terrace  so  long  as  it  suited 
him  to  be  their  guest. 

"I  have  only  two  days  at  home  until  I  leave  for  my 
regiment,"  he  explained ;  "but  my  mother  has  enough  pleas 
ant  people  here  to  make  your  visit  interesting,  I  hope.  She 
will  be  delighted  to  welcome  you,  and  some  Beaufort  ac 
quaintances  of  yours  are  here — the  Lorings." 

Captain  Monroe  showed  interest  in  this  information,  and 
declared  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  stop  over  until  Mc 
Veigh  left  for  the  front. 

"Good!  and  you,  Captain  Masterson?" 

Masterson  glanced  coldly  towards  Monroe,  evidently  de 
sirous  of  a  private  interview  with  McVeigh.  But  seeing 
little  chance  of  it  without  a  pointed  request,  he  took  two 
packets  from  a  case  carefully  fastened  in  his  pocket,  and 
presented  them. 

"I  am  detailed  to  convey  to  you  some  important  papers, 
and  I  congratulate  you  on  your  promotion  to  Brigadier- 
General,"  he  said,  with  a  bow. 

"Brigadier?  Well,  well;  they  are  giving  me  a  pleasant 
reception,"  and  his  face  showed  his  pleasure  as  he  looked 
at  the  papers.  "Thank  you,  Captain  Masterson.  By  the 
way,  how  much  time  have  you  ?" 

"Until  tomorrow  night ;  I  meant  to  ride  over  to  the 
plantation  after  delivering  this." 


274  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"The  ladies  won't  hear  to  that  when  they  get  sight  of 
you.  They  are  giving  a  party  tonight  and  need  all  the 
uniforms  we  can  muster ;  a  squad  of  your  men  on  their  way 
to  the  forts  below  have  stopped  over  for  breakfast,  and 
they've  even  captured  them,  and  you'll  be  welcome  as  the 
flowers  of  May." 

Masterson  glanced  at  Monroe  and  hesitated.  "Those  men 
are  needed  at  one  of  the  fortifications,"  he  said  guardedly ; 
"they  had  better  take  some  other  time  for  a  party.  With 
your  permission  I'll  send  them  on,  and  remain  in  their  place 
with  -one  orderly,  if  convenient." 

"Certainly ;  glad  to  have  you ;  give  your  own  orders  about 
the  men.  I  do  not  know  that  they  have  accepted  the  in 
vitation  to  linger,  I  only  know  that  the  ladies  wanted  them 
to." 

He  rang  for  Pluto,  who  was  given  orders  concerning 
rooms  for  Captain  Monroe,  and  for  Captain  Masterson,  who 
left  to  speak  with  the  men  waiting  orders  without.  He 
made  a  gesture  towards  the  packet  in  McVeigh's  hand  and 
remarked:  "I  have  reason  apart  from  the  commission  to 
think  the  contents  are  important.  Our  regiment  is  to  be 
merged  in  your  brigade,  and  all  pressed  to  the  front. 
Towards  what  point  I  could  not  learn  at  Columbia,  but  your 
information  will  doubtless  cover  all  that,  General." 

''Colonel  will  answer  until  I  find  my  brigade,"  said  Mc 
Veigh,  with  a  smik.  "You  stay  over  until  I  learn,  since  we 
are  to  go  together,  and  I  will  look  them  over  soon  as  possi 
ble." 

He  himself  showed  Monroe  the  room  he  was  to  occupy, 
to  the  chagrin  of  Pluto,  who  was  hanging  about  in  a  fever 
of  curiosity  and  dread  at  sight  of  a  Northern  soldier — the 
first  he  had  ever  seen,  and  the  rumor  that  he  was  brought 
there  a  prisoner  suggested  calamities  to  the  army  through 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  275 

which,  alone,  his  own  race  dared  hope  for  freedom ;  and  to 
hear  the  two  men  chat  and  laugh  over  West  Point  mem 
ories  was  an  aggravation  to  him,  listening,  as  he  was,  for 
the  news  of  today,  and  the  serious  questions  involved.  Only 
once  had  there  been  allusion  to  the  horrors  of  war — when 
McVeigh  inquired  concerning  his  former  classmate,  Mon 
roe's  brother,  Fred,  and  was  told  he  had  been  numbered 
with  the  dead  at  Shiloh.  The  door  was  open  and  Pluto  could 
hear  all  that  was  said — could  see  the  bronzed  face  of  the 
Northerner,  a  face  he  liked  instinctively  though  it  was  not 
exactly  handsome — an  older  face  than  McVeigh's.  He  was 
leaving  West  Point  as  the  young  Southerner  entered — a 
man  of  thirty  years,  possibly — five  of  them,  the  hard  years 
of  the  frontier  range.  A  smile  lit  up  his  face,  changing  it 
wonderfully.  His  manner  was  neither  diffident  nor  over 
confident — there  was  a  certain  admirable  poise  to  it.  His 
cool,  irritating  attitude  towards  the  zealous  Masterson  had 
been  drawn  out  by  the  innate  antagonism  of  the  two  na 
tures,  but  with  McVeigh  only  the  cordial  side  was  appealed 
to,  and  he  responded  with  frank  good  will. 

Pluto  watched  them  leave  the  room  and  enter  the  apart 
ments  of  Mr.  Loring,  where  Mrs.  McVeigh,  Miss  Gertrude 
and  Delaven  were  at  that  time,  and  the  latter  was  enter 
tained  by  seeing  one  of  the  Northern  wolves  welcomed  most 
cordially  by  the  Southern  household.  Fred  Monroe  had 
been  Kenneth's  alter-ego  during  the  West  Point  days.  Mrs. 
McVeigh  had  photographs  of  them  together,  which  she 
brought  out  for  inspection,  and  Kenneth  had  pleasant  mem 
ories  of  the  Monroe  home  where  he  had  been  a  guest  for  a 
brief  season  after  graduation ;  altogether  it  was  an  interest 
ing  incident  of  the  war  to  Delaven,  who  was  the  one  out 
sider.  He  was  sorry  the  Marquise  was  not  there  to  observe. 

The  Marquise  was,  however,  making  observations  on  her 


276  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

own  account,  but  not  particularly  to  her  satisfaction.  She 
walked  from  one  window  to  another  watching  the  road,  and 
the  only  comforting  view  she  obtained  was  the  departure  of 
the  squad  of  soldiers  who  had  breakfasted  in  the  arbor. 
They  turned  south  along  the  river,  and  when  they  passed 
through  the  Terrace  gates  she  drew  a  breath  of  relief  at 
the  sight.  They  would  not  meet  Pierson,  who  was  to  come 
over  the  road  to  the  east,  and  they  would  leave  on  the  place 
only  the  orderlies  of  Colonel  McVeigh  and  Captain  Mas- 
terson,  and  the  colored  men  whose  quarters  were  almost  a 
half  mile  in  the  rear  of  the  Terrace.  She  was  glad  they 
were  at  that  distance,  though  she  scarcely  knew  why.  Pier- 
son's  delay  made  her  fear  all  sorts  of  bungling  and  extreme 
measures — men  were  such  fools  ! 

Evilena  had  flitted  away  again  to  look  up  a  dress  for  the 
party,  and  did  not  return,  so  she  was  left  alone.  She  heard 
considerable  walking  about  and  talking  in  the  rooms  below 
and  on  the  veranda.  No  one  came  along  her  corridor,  how 
ever,  so  she  could  ask  no  questions  as  to  the  latest  arrivals. 
For  reasons  of  her  own  she  had  dispensed  with  a  personal 
attendant  after  the  departure  of  Louise ;  there  was  no  maid 
to  make  inquiries  of. 

An  hour  passed  in  this  feverish  suspense,  when  she  went 
to  the  mirror  with  an  air  of  decision,  arranged  her  hair  be 
comingly,  added  a  coral  brooch  to  the  lace  at  her  throat, 
slipped  some  glimmering  rings  on  her  white  fingers,  and 
added  those  little  exquisite  touches  to  the  toilet  which  cer 
tain  women  would  naturally  linger  over  though  it  be  the 
last  hour  on  earth. 

Then  she  opened  the  door  and  descended  the  stairs,  a  pic 
ture  of  beauty  and  serenity — a  trifle  of  extra  color  in  the 
cheeks,  perhaps,  but  it  would  be  a  captious  critic  who  would 
object  to  the  added  lustre. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  277 

Captain  Monroe  certainly  did  not,  as  he  halted  in  the 
library  at  sight  of  her,  and  waited  to  see  if  she  passed  out 
on  the  veranda,  or — 

She  looked  out  on  the  veranda ;  no  one  was  there ;  with 
an  impatient  sigh  she  turned,  pushed  the  partly  opened  door 
of  the  library  back,  and  was  inside  the  room  before  she  per 
ceived  him.  Involuntarily  she  shut  the  door  back  of  her. 

"Oh — h !"  and  she  held  out  her  hand  with  a  quick,  pretty 
gesture  of  surprise  and  pleasure — well  met,  Captain  Jack !" 
.  He  took  the  hand  she  offered  and  looked  at  her  with  a 
certain  questioning  directness. 

"I  hope  so,  Madame  Caron,"  and  the  gaze  was  so  steady, 
his  grasp  so  firm,  that  she  drew  her  hand  away  with  a  little 
laugh  that  was  a  trifle  nervous. 

"Your  voice  and  face  reassure  me !  I  dare  breathe  again !" 
she  said,  with  a  mock  sigh  of  relief;  "my  first  glimpse  of 
your  uniform  made  me  fear  a  descent  of  the  enemy." 

"Have  you  need  to  fear  any  special  enemy  here?"  he 
asked,  bluntly.  She  put  her  hand  out  with  a  little  gesture 
of  protest  as  she  sank  back  into  the  chair  he  offered. 

"Why  should  you  be  so  curious  on  a  first  meeting?"  she 
asked,  with  a  quizzical  smile.  "But  I  will  tell  you,  Mon 
sieur,  for  all  that ;  I  am,  of  course,  very  much  afraid  of  the 
Northern  armies.  I  left  Orleans  rather  than  live  under  the 
Federal  government,  if  you  please !  I  have  bought  a  very 
handsome  estate  a  few  miles  from  here  which,  of  course, 
binds  my  interests  more  closely  to  the  South,"  and  she 
flashed  a  meaning,  mocking  glance  up  at  him.  "Do  not  look 
so  serious,  my  friend,  it  is  all  very  beautifully  arranged ;  I 
had  my  will  made  as  soon  as  the  deed  was  signed,  of  course ; 
no  matter  what  accidents  should  happen  to  me,  all  my 
Southern  properties  will  be  held  intact  to  carry  on  the  plans 
for  which  they  were  purchased.  I  am  already  building  my 


278  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

monuments,"  and  she  unfurled  a  silken  fan  the  color  of  her 
corals  and  smiled  across  it  at  him. 

Their  backs  were  towards  the  window.  She  was  seated 
in  the  deep  chair,  while  he  stood  near  her,  leaning  on  the 
back  of  another  one  and  looking  down  in  her  face.  Pluto, 
who  was  still  hovering  around  with  the  hope  of  getting 
speech  with  a  "sure  enough  Lincum  man,"  had  come  noise 
lessly  to  the  open  window  and  only  halted  an  instant  when 
he  saw  the  stranger  so  pleasantly  occupied,  and  heard  the 
musical  voice  of  Madame  Caron  say  "My  friend."  It  was 
to  him  the  sweetest  voice  in  the  world  now,  and  he  would 
gladly  have  lingered  while  she  spoke,  but  the  rest  of  the 
words  were  very  soft  and  low,  and  Miss  Loring  was  moving 
towards  him  coming  slowly  up  the  steps,  looking  at  him  as 
though  the  veranda  was  no  place  for  a  nigger  to  lounge 
when  unemployed — a  fact  he  was  well  enough  aware  of  to 
walk  briskly  away  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  when  he 
found  her  eye  on  him. 

She  had  reached  the  top  of  the  steps  and  was  thinking  the 
colored  folks  at  the  Terrace  were  allowed  a  great  many 
privileges,  when  she  heard  the  low  tones  of  a  man's  voice. 
Supposing  it  was  Kenneth  and  possibly  his  mother,  she 
stepped  softly  towards  the  window.  Before  she  reached  it 
she  perceived  her  mistake — the  man  wore  a  blue  uniform, 
and  though  she  could  not  see  Madame  Caron,  she  could  see 
the  soft  folds  of  her  dress,  and  the  white  hand  moving  the 
coral  fan. 

Disappointed,  and  not  being  desirous  of  joining  the  wo 
man  whose  charm  evidently  enthralled  every  one  but  her 
self,  she  stepped  quietly  back  out  of  range,  and  passed  on 
along  the  veranda  to  the  sitting  room,  where  Evilena  was 
deeply  engaged  over  the  problem  of  a  dress  to  be  draped 
and  trimmed  for  the  party.  And  the  two  talked  on  within 


THE  BONDWOMAN. 

the  closed  doors  of  the  library,  the  man's  voice  troubled, 
earnest ;  the  woman's,  careless  and.  amused. 

"I  shall  tell  you  what  I  wish,  Captain  Jack,"  she  said, 
tapping  the  fan  slowly  on  the  palm  of  her  hand  and  looking 
up  at  him,  "I  am  most  pleased  to  see  you,  but  for  all  that 
I  wish  you  had  not  come  to  this  particular  house,  and  I 
wish  you  would  go  away." 

"Which  means,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "that  you  are  in 
some  danger?" 

"Oh,  no !  if  it  were  that,"  and  her  glance  was  almost  co 
quettish,  "I  should  ask  you  to  remain  as  my  champion." 

"Pardon,  Madame,"  and  he  shook  his  head,  doubtfully, 
"but  I  remember  days  in  New  Orleans,  and  I  know  you 
better  than  that." 

She  only  raised  her  brows  and  smiled.  He  watched  her 
for  a  moment  and  then  said :  "Colonel  McVeigh  is  a  friend ; 
I  should  not  like  to  think  that  your  presence  means  danger 
to  him." 

"What  an  idea !"  and  she  laughed  heartily ;  "am  I  grown 
such  a  thing  of  terror  that  I  dare  not  enter  a  door  lest  dan 
ger  follow  ?  Who  could  be  oppressed  with  political  schemes 
in.  this  delightful  life  of  the  plantation  ?  It  is  really  Eden- 
like;  that  is  why  I  have  purchased  one  of  the  places  for 
my  own ;  it  is  worth  seeing.  If  you  remain  I  shall  invite 
you  over ;  shall  you  ?" 

"For  some  reason  you  wish  I  would  not ;  if  I  only  knew 
what  the  reason  is  !" 

"A  few  months  ago  you  did  not  question  my  motives," 
she  said,  reprovingly;  then  in  a  lower  tone,  "Your  com 
mander  has  never  questioned,  why  should  you?  Your 
President  has  sent  me  messages  of  commendation  for  my 
independent  work.  One,  received  before  I  left  Mobile,  I 


280  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

should  like  you  to  see,"  and  she  rose  from  the  chair.  He 
put  out  his  hand  to  stop  her. 

"Not  if  it  has  connection  with  any  plot  or  plan  of  work 
against  the  people  on  this  side  of  the  line ;  remember,  I  am 
on  parole." 

"Oh,  I  shall  respect  your  scruples,"  she  said,  lightly.  "But 
you  need  have  no  dread  of  that  sort.  I  would  not  keep 
by  me  anything  dangerous ;  it  is  not  compromising  to  the 
Marquise  de  Caron  in  any  way."  She  halted  at  the  door 
and  added,  "Will  you  wait  ?" 

"Yes,  I  will  wait,"  he  said ;  "but  I  can't  approve,  and  I 
don't  need  the  evidence  of  any  one  else  in  order  to  appre 
ciate  your  value,"  he  added,  grimly;  "but  be  careful,  re 
member  where  you  are." 

"I  could  not  forget  it  if  I  tried,  Captain  Jack,"  she 
declared,  with  a  peculiar  smile,  of  which  the  meaning  es 
caped  him  until  long  after. 

That  ride  from  Loringwood  in  the  morning,  and  the  ner 
vous  expectancy  after,  had  evidently  tended  to  undermine 
her  own  self-confidence  and  usual  power  of  resource,  for 
when  she  returned  to  the  room  a  few  minutes  later,  and 
found  Gertrude  and  her  uncle  there,  she  halted  in  abso 
lute  confusion — could  not  collect  her  thoughts  quickly 
enough  for  the  emergency,  and  glanced  inquiringly  towards 
Monroe,  as  one  looks  at  a  stranger,  while  he,  after  one  look 
as  she  entered,  continued  some  remark  to  Mr.  Loring. 

For  an  instant  Gertrude's  eyes  grew  narrow  as  she 
glanced  from  one  to  the  other ;  then  she  recovered  her  usual 
sweet  manner,  as  she  turned  to  Judithe : 

"Pardon  me,  I  fancied  you  two  had  met.  Madame  Caron, 
permit  me  to  present  Captain  Monroe,  one  of  our  recent  ac 
quisitions." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  281 

Both  bowed;  neither  spoke.  Colonel  McVeigh  entered 
at  that  moment.  He  had  changed  the  grey  travelling  suit 
in  which  he  arrived,  for  the  grey  uniform  of  his  regiment, 
and  Judithe,  however  critical  she  tried  to  be,  could  not  but 
acknowledge  that  he  was  magnificent ;  mentally  she  added, 
"Magnificent  animal ;  but  what  of  the  soul,  the  soul  ?" 

There  was  no  lack  of  soul  in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  at  her 
and  crossed  the  room,  as  though  drawn  by  an  invisible  chain, 
and  noted,  as  a  lover  ever  notes,  that  the  dress  she  wore 
had  in  its  soft,  silvery  folds,  a  suggestion  of  sentiment  for 
the  cause  he  championed. 

But  when  he  murmured  something  of  his  appreciation, 
slie  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  fan  she  held,  and  when  she 
glanced  slowly  up  it  was  in  a  manner  outlawing  the  tete-a- 
tete. 

"I  realize  now,  Colonel  McVeigh,  that  you  are  really  a 
part  of  the  army,"  she  remarked  in  the  tone  of  one  who 
makes  the  conversation  general.  "You  were  a  very  civilian- 
looking  person  this  morning.  I  have,  like  your  Southern 
ladies,  acquired  a  taste  for  warlike  trappings;  the  uniform 
is  very  handsome." 

"Thanks ;  I  hope  you  will  find  my  next  one  more  becom 
ing,  since  it  is  to  be  that  of  Brigadier-General." 

Although  Matthew  Loring's  sight  was  impaired,  his  loco 
motion  slow,  and  his  left  hand  and  arm  yet  helpless,  his 
sense  of  hearing  was  acute  enough  to  hear  the  words  even 
across  Monroe's  conversation,  for  his  sunken  eyes  lit  up  as 
he  twisted  his  head  towards  the  speaker : 

"What's  that,  Kenneth?    You  to  command  a  brigade?" 

"So  they  tell  me,"  assented  McVeigh.  "The  commis 
sion  just  reached  me." 

"Good  enough!    Do  you  hear  that,  Gertrude?    A  Briga- 


282  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

dier-Gen-eral  at  twenty-five.  Well,  I  don't  see  what  more  a 
man  could  want." 

"I  do,"  lie  said,  softly,  to  Judithe,  so  softly  that  she  felt 
rather  than  heard  the  words,  to  which  his  eyes  bore  wit 
ness.  Then  he  turned  to  reply  to  Mr.  Loring's  questions 
of  military  movements. 

"No,  I  can't  give  yon  much  special  information  today," 
and  he  smiled  across  at  Monroe,  when  Loring  found  fault 
with  the  government  officials  who  veiled  their  plans  and 
prospects  from  the  taxpayers — the  capitalists  of  the  South 
who  made  the  war  possible.  "But  the  instructions  received 
lead  roe  to  believe  a  general  movement  of  much  importance 
is  abotrt  to  be  made  in  our  department,  and  my  opportuni 
ties  will  be  all  a  soldier  .could  wish." 

"So  you  have  become  a  Brigadier-General  instead  of  the 
Lieutenant  w.e  knew  only  three  years  ago.,"  and  J-udithe's 
eyes  rested  on  him  .graciously  for  an  instant,  as  Monroe  and 
Gertrude  helped  Loring  out  to  the  wheeled  chair  on  the 
lawn.  "You  travel  fast — you  Americans !  I  congratulate 
yo.u." 

She  had  arisen  and  crossed  the  room  to  the  little  writing 
desk  in  the  corner.  He  followed  with  his  eyes  her  graceful 
walk  and  the  pretty  fluttering  movements  of  her  hands  as 
she  drew  out  note  paper  and  busied  herself  rather  ostenta 
tiously.  He  smiled  as  he  noticed  it;  she  was  afraid  of  a 
tete-a-tete ;  she  was  trying  to  run  away,  if  only  to  the  farther 
side  of  the  room. 

"I  shall  consider  myself  a  more  fit  subject  for  congratula 
tion  if  you  prove  more  kind  to  the  General  than  you  were 
to  the  Lieutenant." 

"People  usually  are,"  she  returned  lightly.  "I  do  not 
fancy  you  will  have  much  of  unkindness  to  combat,  except 
from  the  enemy." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  283- 

Evilena  entered  the  room  humming  an  air,  and  her 
brother  remarked  carelessly  that  the  first  of.  the  enemy  to-  in 
vade  their  domain  was  not  very  formidable  at  present, 
though  Captain  Jack  Monroe  had  made  a  fighting  record 
for  himself  in  the  western  campaign.  Judithe  did  not  ap 
pear  particularly  interested  in  the  record  of  the  Northern 
campaign,  but  Evilena,  who  had  been  too  much  absorbed 
in  the  question  of  wardrobe  to  keep  informed  of  the  late  ar 
rivals,  fairly  gasped  at  the  name. 

"Really  and  truly,  is  that  Yankee  here?"  she  demanded, 
"right  here  in  the  house  ?  Caroline  said  it  wasn't  a  Yankee 
— just  some  friend  of  yours." 

"So  he  is." 

"And— a—  Yankee?" 

He  nodded  his  head  and  smiled  at  her.  Judithe  had 
picked  up  a  pen  and  was  writing.  Evilena  glanced  towards 
her  for  assistance  in  this  astonishing  state  of  affairs,  but  no 
one  appeared  to  be  shocked  but  herself. 

"Well!"  she  said,  at  last,  resignedly,  "since  we  are  to 
have  any  Yankee  here,  I'm  glad  its  the  one  Gertrude  met 
at  Beaufort.  I've  been  conjuring  up  romances  about  them 
ever  since,  and  I  am  curious  to  see  if  he  looks  like  the  Jack 
Monroe  in  the  song." 

"Not  likely,"  said  her  brother,  discouragingly,  "he  is  the 
least  romantic  hero  for  a  song  you  can  imagine ;  but  if  yon 
put  on  your  prettiest  dress  and  promise  not  to  fight  all  the 
battles  of  the  war  over  with  him,  I'll  manage  that  you  sit 
beside  him  at  dinner  and  make  romances  about  him  at  closer 
range,  if  you  can  find  the  material." 

"To  think  of  me  dressing  my  prettiest  for  a  Yankee !  and 
oh,  Ken,  I  can't  dress  so  astonishingly  pretty,  either.  I'm 
really,"  and  she  sighed  dejectedly,  "down  to  my  last  party 
dress." 


284  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Well,  that's  better  than  none." 

"None!"  she  endeavored  to  freeze  him  with  a  look,  but 
his  smile  forbade  it,  and  she  left  the  room,  singing 

"Just  as  she  stepped  on  ship  board, 
'Your  name  I'd  like  to  know?' 
And  with  a  smile  she  answered, 
'My  name  is  Jack  Monroe.'  " 

"Thanks ;  glad  to  find  so  charming  a  namesake,"  said  a 
deep  voice,  and  she  looked  up  to  see  a  tall  man  gazing  down 
at  her  with  a  smile  so  kindly  she  should  never  have  guessed 
he  was  a  Yankee  but  for  the  blue  uniform. 

"Oh !"  she  blushed  deliciously,  and  then  laughed.  There 
really  was  no  use  trying  to  be  dignified  with  a  stranger 
after  such  a  meeting  as  that. 

"I  never  did  mean  to  steal  your  name,  Captain  Monroe," 
she  explained,  "for  you  are  Captain  Monroe?" 

"Yes,  except  when  I  am  Jack,"  and  then  they  both  smiled. 

"Oh,  I've  known  Jack  was  your  name,  too,  for  this  long 
time,"  she  said,  with  a  little  air  of  impressing  him  with  her 
knowledge ;  "but  I  couldn't  call  you  that,  except  in  the 
song." 

"May  I  express  the  hope  that  you  sing  the  song  often?" 
he  asked,  with  an  attempt  at  gravity  not  entirely  success 
ful. 

"But  you  don't  know  who  I  am,  do  you?"  and  when  he 
shook  his  head  sadly  she  added,  "but  of  course  you've  heard 
of  me ;  I'm  Evilena." 

"Evilena?" 

""Evilena  McVeigh,"  she  said,  with  a  trifle  of  emphasis. 

""Oh,  Kenneth's  sister?"  and  he  held  out  his  hand.  "I'm 
delighted  to  know  you." 

"Thank  you."  She  let  her  hand  rest  in  his  an  instant, 
and  then  drew  it  away,  with  a  little  gasp. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  285 

"There!     I've  done  it  after  all." 

"Anything  serious?"  he  inquired. 

She  nodded  her  head ;  "I've  broken  a  promise." 

"Not  past  repair,  I  hope." 

"Oh,  it's  only  a  joke  to  you,  but  it  really  is  serious  to  me. 
When  the  boys  I  know  all  started  North  with  the  army 
I  promised  I'd  never  shake  hands  with  a  Yankee." 

"Promised  them  all?"  he  asked,  and  without  waiting  for 
a  reply,  he  continued :  "Now,  that's  a  really  extraordinary 
coincidence ;  I  entertained  the  same  idea  about  Johnnie 
Rebs." 

"Really?"  and  she  looked  quite  relieved  at  finding  a  com 
panion  in  iniquity ;  "but  you  did  shake  hands  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  sorry?" 

"No;  are  you?" 

"N— no." 

And  when  Delaven  went  to  look  for  Evilena  to  tell  her 
they  were  to  have  lunch  on  the  lawn  (Mrs.  McVeigh  had 
installed  him  as  master  of  ceremonies  for  the  day),  he  found 
her  in  the  coziest,  shadiest  nook  on  the  veranda,  entertain 
ing  a  sample  copy  of  the  enemy,  and  assuring  him  that  the 
grey  uniforms  would  be  so  much  more  becoming  than  the 
blue. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Noon.  Colonel  McVeigh  had  been  at  the  Terrace  al 
ready  a  half  day,  and  no  sign  had  come  from  Pierson — no 
message  of  any  sort.  Judithe  called  Pluto  and  asked  if  the 
mail  did  not  leave  soon  for  down  the  river,  and  suggested 

19 


286  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

that  when  he  took  it  to  the  office  he  would  ask  the  man  in 
charge  to  look  carefully  lest  any  letters  should  have  been 
forgotten  from  the  night  before. 

"Yes'm,  mail  go  'bout  two  hours  now,"  and  he  looked 
up  at  the  clock.  "I  go  right  down  ask  'bout  any  letters  done 
been  fo'got.  But  I  don'  reckon  any  mail  to  go  today ;  folks 
all  too  busy  to  write  lettahs." 

"No ;  I — I — I  will  have  a  letter  to  go,"  and  she  turned 
toward  the  desk.  "How  soon  will  you  start?" 

"Hour  from  now,"  said  Pluto,  "that  will  catch  mail  all 
right;"  and  with  that  she  must  be  content.  At  any  other 
time  she  would  have  sent  him  at  once  without  the  excuse 
of  a  letter  to  be  mailed.  Those  easy-going  folk  who  handled 
the  mail  might  easily  have  overlooked  some  message — a 
delay  of  twenty-four  hours  would  mean  nothing  in  their 
sleepy  lives.  But  today  she  was  unmistakably  nervous — all 
the  more  reason  for  exceeding  care. 

She  had  begun,  the  letter  when  Colonel  McVeigh  came 
for  her  to  go  to  lunch ;,  she  endeavored  to  make  an  excuse — 
she  was  not  at  all  hungry,  really,  it  appeared  but  an  hour 
since  the  breakfast ;  but  perceiving  that  if  she  remained  he 
would  remain  also,  she  arose,,  saying  she  would  join  their 
little,  festival  on.  the  lawn,  long  enough  for  a  cup  of  tea,  she 
had  a  letter  to  get  ready  for  the  mail  within  an  hour. 

She  managed  to  seat  herself  where  she  could  view  the  road 
to  the  south,  but  not  a  horseman  or  footman  turned  in  at  the 
Terrace  gate.  She  felt  the  eyes  of  Monroe  on  her ;  also  the 
eyes  of  Gertrude  Loring,  How  much  did  they  know  or  sus 
pect?  She  was  feverishly  gay,  though  penetrated  by  the 
feeling  that  the  suspended  sword  hung  above  her.  Pierson's 
non-appearance  might  mean  many  things  appalling — and 
Louise ! 

All  these  chaotic  thoughts  surging  through  her,  and  ever 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  287 

beside  her  the  voice  of  Kenneth  McVeigh,  not  the  voice 
alone,  but  the  eyes,  at  times  appealing,  at  times  dominant,  as 
he  met  her  gaze,  and  forbade  that  she  be  indifferent. 

"Why  should  you  starve  yourself  as  well  as  me?"  'he 
asked,  softly,  when  she  declined  the  dishes  brought  to  her, 
and  made  pretense  of  drinking  the  cup  of  tea  he  offered. 

"You — starving?"  and  the  slight  arching  of  the  dark 
brows  added  to  the  note  of  question. 

"Yes,  for  a  word  of  hope." 

"Really?  and  what  word  do  you  covet?" 

""The  one  telling  me  if  the  Countess  Biron's  gossip  was 
the  only  reason  you  sent  me  away." 

Mrs.  McVeigh  looked  over  at  the  two,  well  satisfied  that 
Kenneth  was  giving  attention  to  her  most  distinguished 
guest.  Gertrude  Loring  looked  across  to  the  couple  cm 
the  rustic  seat  and  felt,  without  hearing,  what  the  tenor  of 
the  conversation  was.  Kenneth  McVeigh  was  wooing  a 
woman  who  looked  at  him  with  slumbrous  magnetic  eyes 
and  laughed  at  him.  Gertrude  envied  her  the  wooing,  "but 
hated  her  for  the  laughter.  All  her  life  Kenneth  McVeigh 
had  been  her  ideal,  but  to  this  "finished  coquette  of  France 
he  was  only  the  man  of  the  moment,  who  contributed  to 
her  love  of  power,  her  amusement.  For  the  girl,  who  was 
his  friend,  read  clearly  the  critical,  half  contemptuous 
gleams,  alternating  at  times  the  graciousness  of  Madame 
Caron's  dark  eyes.  She  glanced  at  Monroe,  and  guessed 
that  he  was  no  more  pleased  than  herself  at  the  tete-a-tete 
there,  and  that  he  was  quite  as  watchful 

And  the  cause  of  it  all  met  Colonel  McVeigh's  question 
with  a  glance,  half  alluring,  half  forbidding,  as  she  sipped 
the  tea  and  put  aside  the  cup. 

"How  persistent  you  are,"  she  murmured.  "If  you  adopt 
the  same  methods  in  warfare  I  do  not  wonder  at  your 


288  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

rapid  promotions.  But  I  shan't  encourage  it  a  moment 
longer ;  you  have  other  guests,  and  I  have  a  letter  to  write." 

She  crossed  to  Mrs.  McVeigh,  murmured  a  few  words 
of  excuse,  exchanged  a  smile  with  Evilena,  who  declared 
her  a  deserter  from  their  ranks,  and  then  moved  up  the 
steps  to  the  veranda  and  passed  through  the  open  window 
into  the  library,  pausing  for  a  little  backward  glance  ere 
she  entered ;  and  the  people  on  the  lawn  who  raised  their 
glasses  to  her,  did  not  guess  that  she  looked  over  their 
heads,  scanning  the  road  for  the  expected  messenger. 

Looking  at  the  clock  she  seated  herself,  picked  up  the 
pen,  and  then  halted,  holding  her  hand  out  and  noting  the 
trembling  of  it. 

"Oh,  you  fool!  You  woman  \"  she  said,  through  her 
closed  teeth. 

She  commenced  one  letter,  blotted  it  in  her  nervous  im 
patience,  turned  it  aside  and  commenced  another,  when 
Captain  Monroe  appeared  at  the  window  with  a  glass  of 
wine  in  his  hand. 

"Why  this  desertion  from  the  ranks  ?"  he  asked,  jestingly, 
yet  with  purpose  back  of  the  jest.  She  recognized,  but  ig 
nored  it. 

"That  you  might  be  detailed  for  special  duty,  perhaps, 
Captain  Jack,"  she  replied,  without  looking  around. 

"I  have  to  look  up  stragglers,"  and  he  crossed  to  the 
desk  where  she  sat.  "I  even  brought  you  a  forgotten  por 
tion  of  your  lunch." 

She  looked  up  at  that,  saw  the  glass,  and  shook  her  Head ; 
"No,  no  wine  for  me." 

"But  it  would  be  almost  treasonable  to  refuse  this,"  he 
insisted.  "In  the  first  place  it  is  native  Carolina  wine  we  are 
asked  to  take;  and  in  the  second,  it  is  a  toast  our  bear  of 
the  swamps — Mr.  Loring — has  proposed,  'our  President.' 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  289 

I  evaded  my  share  by  being  cup-bearer  to  you."  He  of 
fered  the  glass  and  looked  at  her,  meaning,  "Will  you 
drink  ?" 

"Only  when  you  drink  with  me,"  she  said,  and  smiled  at 
the  grim  look  touching  his  face  for  an  instant. 

"To  the  President  of  the  Southern  Confederacy?"  he 
asked. 

"No !— to  our  President !" 

She  took  the  glass,  touched  the  wine  to  her  lips,  and 
offered  the  remainder  to  him,  just  as  Colonel  McVeigh 
entered  from  the  lawn.  He  heard  Captain  Monroe  say, 
"With  all  my  heart!"  as  he  emptied  the  glass.  The  scene 
had  such  a  sentimental  tinge  that  he  felt  a  swift  flash  of 
jealousy,  and  realized  that  Monroe  was  a  decidedly  attrac 
tive  fellow  in  his  own  cool,  masterful  way. 

"Ah !  a  tryst  at  mid-day  ?"  he  remarked,  with  assumed 
lightness. 

"No;  only  a  parley  with  the  enemy,"  she  said,  and  he 
passed  out  into  the  hall,  picking  up  his  hat  from  the  table, 
where  he  had  tossed  it  when  he  entered  in  the  morning. 

Monroe  walked  up  to  the  window  and  back  again.  She 
heard  him  stop  beside  her,  but  did  not  look  up. 

"I  have  almost  decided  to  take  your  advice,  and  remain 
only  one  night  instead  of  two,"  he  said,  at  last.  "I  can't 
approve  what  you  are  doing  here.  I  can't  help  you,  and  I 
can't  stay  by  and  be  witness  to  the  enchantment  which,  for 
some  reason,  you  are  weaving  around  McVeigh." 

"Enchantment  ?" 

"Well,  I  can't  find  a  better  word  just  now.  I  can't  warn 
him  ;  so  I  will  leave  in  the  morning." 

"I  really  think  it  would  be  better,"  she  said,  looking  up  at 
him  frankly.  "Of  all  the  American  men  I  have  met  I 
value  your  friendship  most ;  yes,  it  is  quite  true !"  as  he 


290  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

uttered  a  slight  exclamation.  "But  there  are  times  when 
even  our  good  angels  hamper  us,  and  just  now  I  am  better, 
much  better,  alone." 

"If  I  could  help  you—" 

"You  could  not,"  she  said  hastily.  "Even  without  the  bar 
rier  of  the  parole,  you  could  not.  But  I  cannot  talk.  I  am 
nervous,  not  myself  today.  You  saw  how  clumsy  I  was 
when  I  brought  the  letter  to  show? — and  after  all  did  not 
get  to  show  it.  Well,  I  have  been  like  that  all  day.  I  have 
grown  fearful  of  everything — distrustful  of  every  glance. 
Did  you  observe  the  watchfulness  of  Miss  Loring  on  the 
lawn?  Still,  what  does  it  matter?" 

She  Leaned  her  head  on  her  hands-  for  a  few  moments. 
He  stood  and  looked  at  her  somberly,  not  speaking.  When 
she  turned  towards  him  again  it  was-  to  ask  in  a  very  dif 
ferent  tone  if  he  would  touch  the  bell — it  was  time  for 
Pluto  to  start  with  the  mail.  When  he  entered  she  found 
that  a  necessary  address  book  had  been  left  in  her  own 
apartments. 

"You  get  the.  mail  bag  while  I  go  for  it,  Pluto,"  she  said 
after  tossing  the  papers-  about  in  a  vain  search;  "and  Cap 
tain.  Monaroe,  will  you  look  over  this  bit  of  figures  for  me? 
It  is  an  expense  list  for  my  yacht,.  I  may  need  it  today  and 
have  a  wretched  head  for  business  details  of  that  sort.  I 
am  helpless  in  them." 

Then  she  was  gone,  and  Monroe,  with;  at  pencil,  noted  the 
amount,  corrected  a  trifling  mistake,  and  suddenly  became 
conscious  that  the  grave,  most  attentive,  black  man,  was 
regarding  him  in  a  manner  inviting  question, 

"Well,  rny  man,  what  is  it?"  he  asked,  folding  up  the 
paper,  and  speaking  with  so  kindly  a  smile  that  Pluto  stum 
bled  eagerly  into  the  heart  of  questions  long  deferred. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  291 

"Jes'  a  word,  Mahs  Captain.  Is  it  true  you  been  took 
prisoner  ?  Is  it  true  the  Linkum  men  are  whipped  ? 

"Well,  if  they  are  they  don't  know  it ;  they  are  still  fight 
ing,  any  way." 

"If — if  they  win,"  and  Pluto  looked  around  nervously  as 
he  asked  the  question,  "will  it  free  us,  Mahs  Captain  ?  We 
niggahs  can't  fine  out  much  down  heah.  Yo'  see,  sah,  fust 
off  they  all  tell  how  the  Nawth  free  us  sure  if  the  Nawth 
won  the  battles.  Then — then  word  done  come  how  Mahsa 
Linkum  nevah  say  so.  Tell  me  true,  Mahs  Captain,  will 
we  be  free?" 

His  eagerness  was  so  intense,  Monroe  hesitated  to  tell 
him  the  facts.  He  understood,  now,  why  the  dark  face  had 
been  watching  him  so  hungrily  ever  since  his  arrival. 

'"The  men  who  make  the  laws  must  decide  those  ques 
tions,  my  man,"  he  said,  at  last.  "In  time  freedom  cer 
tainly  will  be  arranged  for — but — " 

"But  Mahsa  Linkum  ain't  done  said  it  yet — that  it, 
Mahsa?" 

"Yes,  that's  it." 

"Thank  yo',  sah,"  and  Monroe  heard  him  take  a  deep 
breath,  sad  as  tears,  when  he  turned  into  the  hall  for  the 
mail  bag. 

A  stranger  was  just  coming  up  the  steps,  a  squarely  built, 
intelligent-eyed  man,  with  a  full  dark  beard  ;  his  horse,  held 
by  one  of  the  boys  under  a  shade  tree,  showed  signs  of  hard 
riding,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  held  instead  of  stabled, 
showed  that  tKe  call  was  to  be  brief. 

The  servants  were  clearing  away  the  lunch  things.  Mrs. 
McVeigh  had  entered  the  house.  Delaven  and  Gertrude 
were  walking  beside  Loring's  chair,  wheeled  by  Ben,  along 
the  shady  places.  Evilena  was  coming  towards  them  from 
across  the  lawn,  pouting  because  of  an  ineffectual  attempt 


292  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

to  catch  up  with  Ken,  whom  she  fancied  she  saw  striding 
along  the  back  drive  to  the  quarters,  but  he  had  walked  too 
fast,  and  the  hedge  had  hidden  him.  She  came  back  dis 
appointed  to  be  asked  by  Delaven  what  sort  of  uniform 
she  was  pursuing  this  time,  to  which  he  very  properly  re 
ceived  no  reply  except  such  as  was  vouchsafed  by  silent, 
scornful  lips  and  indignant  eyes. 

Masterson,  who  was  walking  thoughtfully  alone,  noted 
this  distribution  of  the  people  as  the  stranger  dismounted, 
inquired  of  Caroline  for  Madame  Caron,  and  was  received 
by  Pluto  at  the  door.  The  man  wore  a  dark  blue  suit, 
plain  but  for  a  thin  cord  of  gold  on  collar  and  sleeve.  He 
did  not  recognize  it  as  a  uniform,  yet  instinctively  asso 
ciated  it  with  that  other  blue  uniform  whose  wearer  had 
caused  him  an  annoyance  he  would  not  soon  forget.  He 
was  there  alone  now  with  Madame  Caron  for  whom  this 
stranger  was  asking.  He  wondered  if  Colonel  McVeigh 
wras  there  also,  but  concluded  not,  as  he  had  seen  him  on 
the  western  veranda  with  his  hat  on.  All  these  thoughts 
touched  him  and  passed  on  as  he  stood  there  looking  crit 
ically  at  the  dusty  horse. 

At  the  same  moment  he  heard  the  thud,  thud  of  another 
horse  turning  in  at  the  Terrace  gates ;  the  rider  was  leaning 
forward  as  though  urging  the  animal  to  its  utmost.  At 
sight  of  Masterson  he  threw  up  his  hand  to  attract  atten 
tion,  and  the  others  on  the  lawn  stared  at  this  second  tu 
multuous  arrival  and  the  haste  Captain  Masterson  made 
to  hear  what  he  had  to  say — evidently  news  of  importance 
from  the  coast  or  the  North. 

Loring  hoped  it  meant  annihilation  of  some  Yankee 
stronghold,  and  Evilena  hoped  it  did  not  mean  that  Kenneth 
must  leave  before  the  party. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  293 

The  man  whom  Pluto  showed  into  the  library  with  the 
information  that  Madame  Caron  would  be  down  at  once, 
glanced  about  him  quickly,  and  with  annoyance,  when  he 
found  there  was  another  man  in  the  room.  But  the  instant 
Monroe's  face  was  seen  by  him,  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
pleasure. 

"By  Jove !  Captain  Jack  ?"  and  he  turned  to  him  eagerly, 
after  noting  that  Pluto  had  left  the  door. 

"I  don't  think  I  know  you,  sir,  though  you  evidently 
know  one  of  my  names,"  and  his  tone  was  not  particularly 
cordial  as  he  eyed  the  stranger/ 

"Don't  you  remember  the  night  run  you  made  on  the 
yacht  Marquise,  last  March?"  and  the  man's  tone  was  low 
and  hurried.  "I  had  no  beard  then,  which  makes  a  differ 
ence.  This  trip  is  not  quite  so  important,  but  has  been  more 
annoying.  I've  been  followed,  have  doubled  like  a  hare  for 
hours,  and  don't  believe  I've  thrown  them  off  the  track 
after  all.  I  have  a  message  to  deliver ;  if  I  can't  see  Madame 
alone  at  once  you  get  it  to  her." 

"Can't  do  it ;  don't  want  to  see  it !"  and  Monroe's  tone  was 
quick  and  decided  as  the  man's  own.  "I  am  on  parole." 

"Parole!"  and  the  stranger  looked  at  him  skeptically. 
"Look  here,  you  are  evidently  working  with  Madame,  and 
afraid  to  trust  me,  but  it's  all  right.  I  swear  it  is !  I  de 
stroyed  the  message  when  I  saw  I  was  followed,  but  I  know 
the  contents,  and  if  you  will  take  it — " 

"You  mistake.  I  have  absolutely  no  knowledge  of  Mad- 
ame's  affairs  at  present." 

"Then  you  won't  take  it?"  and  the  man's  tones  held 
smothered  rage.  "So,  when  put  to  the  test,  Captain  Jack 
Monroe  is  afraid  to  risk  what  thousands  are  risking  for  the 
cause,  at  the  front  and  in  secret — a  life !" 

"It  is  just  as  well  not  to  say  'afraid/  my  good  fellow," 


294  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  Monroe's  words  were  a  trifle  colder,  a  shade  more  de 
liberate.  "Do  you  know  what  a  parole  means?  I  excuse 
your  words  because  of  your  present  position,  which  may 
be  desperate.  If  you  are  her  friend  I  will  do  what  I  can 
to  save  you;  but  the  contents  of  the  dispatch  I  refuse 
to  hear." 

Judithe  entered,  the  door  as  he  spoke,  and  came  forward 
smilingly. 

"Certainly ;  it  was  not  intended  that  you  should.  This  is 
the  captain  of  my  yacht,  and  his  messages  only  interest  me." 

"Madame  Caron!"  and  Monroe's  tones  were  imploring, 
"Consider  where  you  are.  Think  of  the  risks  you  run  !" 

"Risks?"  and  she  made  a  little  gesture  of  disdain.  She 
felt  so  much  stronger  now  that  the  suspense  was  over — 
now  that  the  message  was  really  here.  "Risks  are  fashion 
able  just  now,  Monsieur,  and  I  always  follow  the  fashions-." 

He  shook  his  head  hopelessly ;  words  were  of  no  use.  He 
turned  awayr  and  remembering  that  he  still  held  the  slip 
with  her  account  on,  he  halted  and  handed  it  to  the  stranger, 
who  was  nearest  him. 

"I  presume  these  figures  were  meant  for  the  master  of 
your  yacht,"  he  remarked,  without  looking  at  her,  and 
passed  out  on  the  veranda^  where  he  halted,  at  sight  of  Mas- 
terson  running  up  the  steps,  and  the  dusty  rider  close  be 
hind. 

Judithe  had  seated  herself  at  the  desk  and  picked  up 
the  pen.  But  as  Monroe  stepped  out  on  the  veranda  she 
turned' impatiently : 

"The  despatch?"  and  she  held  out  her  hand. 

""I  was  followed — I  read  and  destroyed  it." 

"Its  contents?" 

"Too  late,  Madame,"  he  remarked,  in  a  less  confidential 
tone,  as  he  laid  the  slip  Monroe  had  given  him  on  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  295 

desk.  He  had  seen  Masterson  at  the  door  and  with  him  the 
other  rider ! 

Judithe  did  not  raise  her  head.  She  was  apparently  ab 
sorbed  in  ner  task  of  addressing  an  envelope. 

"I  will  speak  with  you  directly ,"  she  said,  carelessly  seal 
ing  the  letter.  He  "bowed  and  stood  waiting,  respectfully. 
Glancing  up,  she  saw  Captain  Masterson,  who  had  en 
tered  from  the  veranda,  and  bestowed  on  him  a  careless,  yet 
gracious  smile.  Pluto  brought  the  mail  bag  in  from  the 
hall,  and  she  dropped  the  letter  in,  also  a  couple  of  papers 
she  took  from  the  top  of  the  desk. 

"There,  that  is  all.  Make  haste,  please,  Pluto,"  and  she 
glanced  at  the  clock.  "I  should  not  like  that  letter  to  miss 
the  mail ;  it  is  important." 

"Yes'm,  I  gwine  right  away  now./'  and  he  turned  to  the 
door,  when  Masterson  stepped  before  him,  and  to  his  as 
tonishment,  took  the  bag  from  his  hand. 

"You  can't  take  this  with  you,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  au 
thority.  "Go  tell  Colonel  McVeigh  he  is  needed  here  on 
business  most  important." 

Pluto  stared  at  him  in  stupid  wonder,  and  Judithe  arose 
from  her  chair. 

"Go,  by  all  means,  Pluto,"  she  said,  quietly,  "Captain 
Masterson's  errand  is,  no  doubt,  more  important  than  a 
lady's  could  be,"  and  she  moved  towards  the  door. 

"I  apologize,  Madame  Caron,  for  countermanding  your 
orders,"  said  Masterson,  quickly,  "but  circumstances  make 
it  necessary  that  no  person  and  no  paper  leave  this  room 
until  this  man's  identity  is  determined,"  and  he  pointed  to 
the  messenger.  "Do  you  know  "him  ?" 

"Certainly  I  Icnow  him ;  he  is  in  my  employ,  the  sailing 
master  of  my  yacht." 

Pluto  came  in  again  and  announced,   "Mahs  Kenneth 


296  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

not  in  the  house ;  he  gone  somewhere  out  to  the  quarters." 
Masterson  received  the  news  with  evident  annoyance.  There 
was  a  moment  of  indecision  as  he  glanced  from  the  stranger 
to  Monroe,  who  had  sauntered  through  the  open  window, 
and  across  to  Judithe,  who  gave  him  one  glance  which  he 
interpreted  to  mean  she  wished  he  was  somewhere  else. 
But  he  only  smiled  and — remained. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  left  for  me  to  do  in  Colonel 
McVeigh's  absence,"  said  Masterson,  addressing  the  group 
in  general,  "and  that  is  to  investigate  this  affair  myself,  as 
every  minute's  delay  may  mean  danger.  Madame  Caron, 
we  are  forced  to  believe  this  man  is  a  spy."  Judithe  smiled 
increduously,  and  he  watched  her  keenly  as  he  continued : 
"More,  he  is  associated  with  a  clever  French  Creole  called 
Louise  Trouvelot,  who  says  she  is  your  maid  and  who  is 
at  present  under  surveillance  in  Savannah,  and  they  both 
are  suspected  of  being  only  agents  for  a  very  accomplished 
spy,  who  has  been  doing  dangerous  work  in  the  South 
for  many  months.  I  explain  so  you  will  comprehend  that 
investigation  is  necessary.  This  man,"  and  he  pointed  to 
the  other  stranger,  who  now  stepped  inside,  "has  followed 
him  from  the  coast  under  special  orders." 

"What  a  dangerous  character  you  have  become !"  said 
Judithe,  turning  to  her  messenger  with  an  amused  smile. 
"I  feared  that  beard  would  make  you  look  like  a  pirate, 
but  I  never  suspected  this  of  you — and  you  say,"  she  added, 
turning  to  Masterson,  "that  my  poor  maid  is  also  under 
suspicion  ?  It  is  ridiculous,  abominable !  I  must  see  to  it 
at  once.  The  girl  will  be  frightened  horribly  among  such 
evidences  of  your  Southern  chivalry,"  and  she  shrugged 
her  shoulders  with  a  little  gesture  of  disdain.  "And  what, 
pray,  do  you  intend  doing  with  my  sailor  here?" 

The  man  had  been  staring  at  Masterson  as  though  as- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  297 

tounded  at  the  accusations.  But  he  did  not  speak,  and  the 
Confederate  agent  never  took  his  eyes  off  him. 

"Ask  him  his  name,"  he  suggested,  softly,  to  Masterson, 
who  took  paper  and  pencil  from  the  desk  and  handed  it  to 
the  suspect.  "Write  your  name  there,"  he  said,  and  when  it 
was  quickly,  good  naturedly  done,  the  self-appointed  judge 
read  it  and  turned  to  Judithe. 

"Madame  Caron,  will  you  please  tell  me  this  man's 
name?"  and  the  messenger  himself  stared  when  she  re 
plied,  haughtily: 

"No,  Captain  Masterson,  I  will  not !" 

"Ah,  you  absolutely  refuse,  Madame?" 

"I  do ;  you  have  accused  my  employe  of  being  a  spy,  but 
your  attitude  suggests  that  it  is  not  he,  but  myself,  whom 
you  suspect." 

"Madame,  you  cannot  comprehend  the  seriousness  of  the 
situation,"  and  Masterson  had  difficulty  in  keeping  his  pa 
tience.  "Every  one  he  speaks  with,  everything  concerning 
him  is  of  interest.  These  are  war  times,  Madame  Caron, 
and  the  case  will  not  admit  of  either  delays  or  special  cour 
tesies.  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  for  the  paper  he  placed  in 
your  hands  as  I  entered  the  room." 

Judithe  picked  up  the  paper  without  a  word  and  reached  it 
to  him,  with  the  languid  air  of  one  bored  by  the  entire  af 
fair. 

He  glanced  at  it  and  handed  it  back.  As  he  did  so  he 
perceived  an  unfinished  letter  on  the  desk.  -In  a  moment  his 
suspicions  were  aroused;  that  important  letter  in  the  mail 
bag! 

"You  did  not  complete  the  letter  you  were  writing  ?" 

"No,"  and  she  lifted  it  from  the  desk  and  held  it  towards 
him.  "You  perceive!  I  was  so  careless  as  to  blot  the 
paper ;  do  you  wish  to  examine  that  ?" 


298  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

His  face  flushed  at  the  mockery  of  her  tone  and  glance. 
He  felt  it  more  keenly,  that  the  eyes  of  Monroe  were  on 
him.  The  task  before  him  was  difficult  enough  without  that 
additional  annoyance. 

"No,  Madame,"  he  replied,  stiffly,  "but  the  situation  is 
such  that  I  feel  Justified  in  asking  the  contents  of  the  en 
velope  you  sealed  and  gave  to-  the  servant." 

"But  that  is  a  private  letter,"  she  protested,  as  he  took  it 
from  the  mail  bag ;  "it  can  be  of  no  use  to  any  government 
or  its  agents." 

"That  can  best  be  determined  by  reading  it,  Madame. 
It  certainly  cannot  go  out  in  this  mail  unless  it  is  exam 
ined." 

"By  you? — oh!"  And  Judithe  put  out  her  hand  in  pro 
test. 

"Captain  Masterson !" 

"Sir !"  and  Masterson  turned  on  Monroe,  who  had  spoken 
for  the  first  time.  As  he  did  so  Judithe  deliberately  leaned 
forward  and  snatched  the  letter  from,  his  hand. 

"Yo-u  shall  not  read  it !"  she  said,  decidedly,  and  just  then 
Evilena  and  her  brother  came  along  the  veranda,  and  with 
them  Delaven.  Judithe  moved  swiftly  to  the  window  be 
fore  any  one  else  coraki  speak. 

"Colonel  McVeigh,  I  appeal  to  you,"  and  involuntarily 
she  reached  out  her  hand,  which  he  took  in  his  as  he  entered 
the  room.  "This — gentleman; — on  some  political  pretense, 
insists  that  I  submit  to  such, examinations  as  spies  are  sub 
ject  to.  I  have  been  accused  in  the  presence  of  these  people, 
and  in  their  presence  I  demand  an  apology  for  this  attempt 
to  examine  my  private,  personal  letters." 

"Captain  Masterson!"  and  the  blue  steel  of  McVeigh's 
eyes  flashed  in  anger  and  rebuke.  But  Masterson,  strong 
in  his  assurance  of  right,  held  up  his  hand. 


THE  BONDWOMAN,  299 

"You  don't  understand  the  situation,  Colonel.  That  man 
is  suspected  of  being  the  assistant  to  a  most  dangerous,  un 
known  spy  within  our  lines.  He  has  been  followed  from 
Beaufort  by  a  Confederate  secret  service  agent,  whom  he 
tried  to  escape  by  doubling  on  the  road,  taking  by-ways, 
riding  fully  twenty  miles  out  of  his  course,  to  reach  this 
point  unobserved." 

For  the  first  time  the  suspected  man  spoke,  and  it  v/as  to 
Judithe. 

"That  is  quite  true,  Madame.  I  mean  that  I  rode  out  of 
my  way.  But  the  reason  of  it  is  that  I  came  over  the  road 
for  the  first  time ;  there  were  no  sign-boards  up,  and  my  -di 
rections  had  not  been  explicit  enough  to  prevent  me  losing 
my  way.  That  is  my  only  excuse  for  not  being  here  earlier. 
I  am  not  landsman  enough  to  make  my  way  through  the 
country  roads  and  timber." 

"You  perceive,  Colonel  McVeigh,  the  man  is  in  my  em 
ploy,  and  has  come  here  by  my  orders,"  said  Judithe,  with 
a  certain  impatience  at  the  density  of  the  accuser. 

"That  should  be  credential  -enough,"  and  McVeigh's  tone 
held  a  distinct  reprimand  as  he  frowned  at  Masterson's 
senseless  accusation;  but  that  officer  made  a  gesture  of  pro 
test.  He  was  being  beaten,  but  he  did  not  mean  to  give  up 
without  a  hard  fight. 

"Colonel,  there  were  special  reasons  for  doubt  in  the 
matter.  Madame  Caron,  apparently,  does  not  know  even 
the  man's  name.  I  asked  him  to  write  it — here  it  is,"  and 
he  handed  McVeigh  the  paper.  "I  asked  her  to  name  him 
— she  refused !" 

"Yes ;  I  resented  the  manner  and  reason  for  the  ques 
tion,"  assented  Judithe ;  "but  the  man  has  been  the  master 
of  my  yacht  for  over  a  year,  and  his  name  is  Pierson — John 
T.  Pierson." 


300  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Correct,"  and  McVeigh  glanced  at  the  paper  on  which 
the  name  was  written.  "Will  you  also  write  the  name  of 
Madame  Caron's  yacht,  Mr.  Pierson?"  and  he  handed  him 
a  book  and  pencil.  "Pardon  me,"  and  he  smiled  reassuring 
ly  at  Judithe,  "this  is  not  the  request  of  suspicion,  but  faith." 
He  took  the  book  from  Pierson  and  glanced  at  the  open 
page  and  then  at  her — "the  name  of  your  yacht  is  ? — " 

"The  Marquise"  she  replied,  with  a  little  note  of  surprise 
in  her  voice,  as  she  smiled  at  Evilena,  who  had  slipped  to 
her  side,  and  understood  the  smile.  Evilena  and  she  had 
made  plans  for  a  season  of  holidays  on  that  same  yacht,  as 
soon  as  the  repairs  were  made.  Colonel  McVeigh  tossed 
the  book  indignantly  on  the  table. 

"Thank  you,  Madame!  Captain  Masterson,  this  is  the 
most  outrageous  thing  I  ever  knew  an  officer  to  be  guilty 
of !  You  have  presumed  to  suspect  a  lady  in  my  house — the 
guest  of  your  superior  officer,  and  you  shall  answer  to  me 
for  it!  Mr.  Pierson,  you  are  no  longer  under  suspicion 
here,  sir.  And  you,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  Confederate 
secret  agent,  "can  report  at  once  to  your  chief  that  spies 
are  not  needed  on  the  McVeigh  plantation." 

"Colonel  McVeigh,  if  you  had  seen  what  I  saw — " 

"Madame  Caron's  word  would  have  been  sufficient,"  in 
terrupted  McVeigh,  without  looking  at  him.  And  Judithe 
held  out  the  letter. 

"I  am  quite  willing  you  should  see  what  he  saw,"  she  said, 
with  a  curious  smile.  "He  saw  me,  after  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Pierson,  seal  an  envelope  leaving  him  in  ignorance  of  its 
contents.  The  seal  is  yet  unbroken — will  you  read  it  ?" 

"You  do  not  suppose  I  require  proof  of  your  innocence?" 
he  asked,  refusing  the  letter,  and  looking  at  her  fondly  as 
he  dare  in  the  presence  of  the  others. 

"But  I  owe  it  to  myself  to  offer  the  proof  now,"  she  in- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  301 

sisted,  "and  at  the  same  time  I  shall  ask  Mr.  Pierson  to  offer 
himself  for  personal  search  if  Captain  Masterson  yet  retains 
suspicion  of  his  honesty;"  she  glanced  towards  Pierson,. 
who  smiled  slightly,  and  bowed  without  speaking.  Then 
she  turned  to  Delaven,  who  had  been  a  surprised  onlooker 
of  the  scene. 

"Dr.  Delaven,  in  the  cause  of  justice,  may  I  ask  you  to 
examine  the  contents  of  this  letter  ?"  and  she  tore  open  the 
envelope  and  offered  it. 

"Anything  in  the  wide  world  to  serve  you,  Madame  la 
Marquise,"  he  answered,  with  a  shade  more  than  usual  of 
deference  in  his  manner,  as  he  took  it.  "Are  the  contents 
to  be  considered  professionally,  that  is,  confidentially  ?" 

She  had  taken  Evilena  by  the  hand,  bowed  slightly  to  the 
group,  and  had  moved  to  the  door,  when  he  spoke.  Mon 
roe,  who  had  watched  every  movement  as  he  stood  there  in 
a  fever  of  suspense  for  her  sake,  drew  a  breath  of  relief  as 
she  replied: 

"Oh,  no!  Be  kind  enough  to  read  it  aloud,  or  Captain 
Masterson  may  include  you  in  the  dangerous  intrigues 
here,"  and,  smiling  still,  she  passed  out  with  Evilena  to  the 
lawn. 

But  a  few  seconds  elapsed,  when  a  perfect  shout  of 
laughter  came  from  the  library.  The  special  detective  did 
not  share  in  it,  for  he  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  with 
a  curse,  and  Masterson  turned  to  him  with  a  frowning,  baf 
fled  stare — an  absolutely  crestfallen  manner,  as  he  listened 
to  the  following,  read  in  Delaven's  best  style: 

"To  Madame  Smith, 

"Mobile,  Ala. : 

"The  pink  morning  gown  is  perfect,  but  I  am  in  despair 
over  the  night  robes !  I  meant  you  to  use  the  lace,  not  the 

20 


302  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

embroidery,  on  them ;  pray  change  them  at  once,  and  send 
at  the  same  time  the  flounced  lawn  petticoats  if  completed. 
I  await  reply. 

"Judithe  de  Caron." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"Certainly,  I  apologize,"  and  Masterson  looked  utterly 
crushed  by  his  mistaken  zeal ;  "apologize  to  every  one  con 
cerned,  collectively  and  individually." 

Even  McVeigh  felt  sorry  for  his  humiliation,  knowing 
how  thoroughly  honest  he  was,  how  devoted  to  the  cause; 
and  Mrs.  McVeigh  was  disconsolate  over  "loyal,  blunder 
ing  Phil  Masterson,"  who,  she  could  not  hope,  would  re 
main  for  the  party  after  what  had  occurred,  and  she  feared 
Judithe  would  keep  to  her  room — who  could  blame  her? 
Such  a  scene  was  enough  to  prostrate  any  woman. 

But  it  did  not  prostrate  Judithe.  She  sent  for  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  to  tell  her  there  must  on  no  account  be  further  hos 
tilities  between  Colonel  McVeigh  and  Captain  Masterson. 

It  was  all  a  mistake,  she  insisted.  Captain  Masterson 
no  doubt  only  did  his  duty  when  presented  with  the  state 
ments  of  the  secret  service  man ;  that  the  statements  were  in 
correct  was  something  Captain  Masterson  could  not,  of 
course,  know,  and  she  appreciated  the  fact  that,  oeing  a 
foreigner,  she  was,  in  his  opinion,  possibly,  more  likely  to 
be  imposed  upon  by  servants  who  were  not  so  loyal  to  the 
South  as  she  herself  was  known  to  be. 

All  this  she  said  in  kindly  excuse,  and  Mrs.  McVeigh 
thought  her  the  most  magnanimous  creature  alive. 

Her  only  anxiety  over  the  entire  affair  appeared  to  be 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  303 

concerning  her  maid  Louise,  who,  also,  was  suffering  the 
suspicion  attaching  to  foreigners  who  were  non-residents ; 
it  was  all  very  ridiculous,  of  course,  but  would  necessitate 
her  going  personally  to  Savannah.  She  could  not  leave  so 
faithful  a  creature  in  danger. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  prevailed  upon  her  to  send  word  with  Mr. 
Pierson  to  the  authorities,  and  remain  herself  for  two  days 
longer — until  Kenneth  and  his  men  left  for  the  front,  which 
Judithe  consented  to  do. 

Masterson,  who  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  found  the 
McVeighs  lacking  in  cordiality  to  him  (Evilena,  even,  dis 
posed  to  look  on  him  as  dead  and  buried  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned),  felt  his  loyal  heart  go  out  to  Gertrude,  who  was 
the  only  one  of  them  all  who  frankly  approved,  and  who 
was  plainly  distressed  at  the  idea  of  his  going  at  once  to 
join  his  company. 

"Don't  go,  Phil,"  she  said,  earnestly;  "something  is 
wrong  here — terribly  wrong;  I  can't  accuse  anyone  in 
particular — I  can't  even  guess  what  it  really  means,  but, 
Phil,"  and  she  glanced  around  her  cautiously  before  putting 
the  question,  "what  possible  reason  could  Madame  Caron 
and  Captain  Monroe  have  for  pretending  they  met  here  as 
strangers,  when  it  was  not  a  fact  ?" 

Whereupon  Gertrude  told  him  of  her  discovery  in  that 
direction. 

"I  can't,  of  course,  mention  it  to  Kenneth  or  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh,  now,"  she  whispered ;  "they  are  so  infatuated  with 
her,  Kenneth  in  particular.  But  I  do  hope  you  will  put 
aside  your  personal  feelings;  make  any  and  every  sort  of 
apology  necessary,  but  remain  right  here  until  you  see  what 
it  all  means.  You  may  prove  in  the  end  that  you  were  not 
entirely  mistaken  today.  What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

Think !    His  thoughts  were  in  a  whirl.    If  Madame  Caron 


304  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

and  Captain  Monroe  were  secretly  friends  it  altered  the 
whole  affair.  Monroe,  whose  conduct  on  arrest  was  un 
usual;  who  had  a  parole  which  might,  or  might  not,  be 
genuine ;  who  had  come  there  as  by  accident  just  in  time  to 
meet  Pierson;  who  had  been  in  the  room  alone  with  Pier- 
son  before  Madame  Caron  came  down  the  stairs — he  knew, 
for  he  had  been  in  sight  when  she  crossed  the  hall. 

He  had  been  a  fool — right  in  theory,  but  wrong  as  to  the 
individual.  He  would  remain  at  the  Terrace,  and  he  would 
start  on  a  new  trail ! 

Mrs.  McVeigh  was  very  glad  he  would  remain;  she  be 
lieved  implicitly  in  his  profound  regret,  and  had  dreaded 
lest  the  question  be  recalled  between  the  two  men  after  they 
had  gone  to  the  front ;  but,  if  Phil  remained  their  guest,  she 
hoped  the  old  social  relations  would  be  completely  restored, 
and  she  warned  Evilena  to  be  less  outspoken  in  regard  to 
her  own  opinions. 

So,  Captain  Masterson  remained,  and  remained  to  such 
purpose  that  during  the  brief  hour  of  Mr.  Pierson's  stay  he 
was  watched  very  closely,  and  the  watcher  was  disappointed 
that  no  attempt  was  made  at  a  private  interview  with  Cap 
tain  Monroe,  who  very  plainly  (Masterson  thought,  osten 
tatiously)  showed  himself  in  a  rather  unsocial  mood,  walk 
ing  thoughtfully  alone  on  the  lawn,  and  making  no  attempt 
to  speak,  even  with  Madame  Caron. 

Pierson  had  a  brief  interview  with  her,  rendered  the  more 
brief  that  he  was  conscious  of  Masterson's  orderly  lounging 
outside  the  window,  but  plainly  within  hearing,  and  the 
presence  of  Mrs.  McVeigh,  who  was  all  interest  and  sym 
pathy  concerning  Louise. 

When  he  said:  "Don't  be  at  all  disturbed  over  the  work 
to  be  done,  Madame ;  there  is  plenty  of  time  in  which  to 
complete  everything,"  the  others  present  supposed,  of 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  305 

course,  he  referred  to  the  repairs  on  the  yacht;  and  when 
he  said,  in  reply  to  her  admonitions,  "No  fear  of  my  losing 
the  road  again,  I  shall  arrive  tonight,"  they  supposed,  of 
course,  he  referred  to  his  arrival  at  the  coast.  Judithe  knew 
better ;  she  knew  it  meant  his  return,  and  more  hours  of  un 
certainty  for  her. 

Colonel  McVeigh  helped  to  keep  those  hours  from  drag 
ging  by  following  up  his  love-making  with  a  proposal  of 
marriage,  which  she  neither  accepted  nor  declined,  but 
which  gave  her  additional  food  for  thought. 

All  the  day  Pluto  brooded  over  that  scene  in  the  library. 
He  was  oppressed  by  the  dread  of  harm  to  Madame  Caron 
if  some  one  did  not  at  once  acquaint  her  with  the  fact  that 
the  real  spy  was  Madame's  maid,  who  had  fled  for  fear  of 
recognition  by  the  Lorings.  He  had  been  curious  as  to 
what  motive  had  been  strong  enough  to  bring  her  back  to 
the  locality  so  dangerous  to  her  freedom.  He  was  puz 
zled  no  longer — he  knew. 

But,  how  to  tell  Madame  Caron?  How  could  a  nigger 
tell  a  white  lady  that  story  of  Rhoda  and  Rhoda's  mother? 
And  if  part  was  told,  all  must  be  told.  He  thought  of  tell 
ing  Dr.  Delaven,  who  already  knew  the  history  of  Margeret, 
but  Dr.  Delaven  was  a  friend  to  the  Lorings,  and  how  was  a 
nigger  to  know  what  a  white  man's  honor  would  exact  that 
he  do  in  such  a  case  ?  And  Pluto  was  afraid  to  ask  it. 

Instinctively  his  trust  turned  to  the  blue  uniformed 
"Linkum  soldier."  No  danger  of  his  telling  the  story  of 
the  runaway  slave  to  the  wrong  person.  And  he  was  Mad 
ame  Caron's  friend.  Pluto  had  noted  how  he  stepped  beside 
her  when  Masterson  brought  his  accusation  against  her,  or 
her  agent,  Pierson.  Monroe  had  been  a  sort  of  divinity  to 
him  from  the  moment  the  officer  in  blue  had  walked  up  the 
steps  of  the  Terrace,  and  Pluto's  admiration  culminated 


306  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

in  the  decision  that  he  was  the  one  man  to  warn  Madame 
Caron  of  her  maid's  identity  without  betraying  it  to  any 
other. 

The  lady  who  caused  all  this  suppressed  anxiety  was,  ap 
parently,  care-free  herself,  or  only  disturbed  slightly  over 
the  report  concerning  Louise.  She  knew  the  girl  was  in 
no  real  danger,  but  she  knew,  also,  that  at  any  hint  of  sus 
picion  Louise  would  be  in  terror  until  joined  by  her  mis 
tress. 

She  heard  Matthew  Loring  had  sent  over  for  Judge 
Clarkson  to  arrange  some  business  affairs  while  Kenneth 
was  home,  and  despite  Mrs.  McVeigh's  statement  that  they 
neither  bought  nor  sold  slaves,  she  fancied  she  knew  what 
one  of  the  affairs  must  be. 

Judge  Clarkson,  however,  was  not  at  home — had  been 
called  across  the  country  somewhere  on  business,  but  Aunt 
Sajane  sent  word  that  they  would  certainly  be  over  in  the 
evening  and  would  come  early,  if  Gideon  returned  in  time. 

But  he  did  not.  Several  of  the  guests  arrived  before 
them;  Colonel  McVeigh  was  employed  as  host,  and  the 
business  talk  had  to  be  deferred  until  the  following  morning. 

Altogether,  the  sun  went  down  on  a  day  heavy  with 
threats  and  promises.  But  whatever  the  rest  experienced 
in  that  atmosphere  of  suppressed  feeling,  Kenneth  McVeigh 
was  only  responsive  to  the  promises ;  all  the  world  was  col 
ored  by  his  hopes ! 

And  Monroe,  who  saw  clearly  what  the  hopes  were,  and 
who  thought  he  saw  clearly  what  the  finale  would  be,  had 
little  heart  for  the  festivities  afoot — wished  himself  anywhere 
else  but  on  the  hospitable  plantation  of  the  McVeighs,  and 
kept  at  a  distance  from  the  charming  stranger  who  had  be 
witched  the  master  of  it. 

Twilight  had  fallen  before  Pluto  found  the  coveted  oppor- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  307 

ttmity  of  speaking-  with  him  alone.  Monroe  was  striding 
along  the  rose  arbor,  smoking  an  after-supper  cigar,  when 
he  was  suddenly  confronted  by  the  negro  who  had  ques 
tioned  him  about  the  Federal  policy  as  to  slavery. 

He  had  been  running  along  the  hedge  in  a  stooping  posi 
tion  so  as  not  to  be  seen  from  the  windows  of  the  dining 
room,  where  the  other  servants  were  working,  and  when  he 
gained  the  shadows  of  an  oleander  tree,  straightened  up  and 
waited. 

"Well,"  remarked  Monroe,  as  he  witnessed  this  ma 
neuver,  "what  is  it?" 

Pluto  looked  at  him  steadily  for  an  instant,  and  then 
asked,  cautiously: 

"Mahs  Captain,  you  a  sure  enough  friend  of  Madame 
Caron?" 

"  'Sure  enough'  friend — what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  mean  Madame  Caron  gwine  to  have  trouble  if  some 
sure  enough  friend  don't  step  in  an'  tell  her  true  who  the 
spy  is  they  all  talk  'bout  today." 

"Indeed?"  said  Monroe,  guardedly;  his  first  thought  was 
one  of  suspicion,  lest  it  be  some  trick  planned  by  Masterson. 

"Yes,  sah;  I  find  out  who  that  woman  spy  is,  but  ain't 
no  one  else  knows !  I  can't  tell  a  white  lady  all  that  story 
what  ain't  noways  fitten'  fo'  ladies  to  listen  to,  but — but 
somebody  got  to  tell  her,  somebody  that  knows  jest  how 
much  needs  tellen',  an'  how  much  to  keep  quiet — somebody 
she  trusts,  an'  somebody  what  ain't  no  special  friend  o'  the 
Lorings.  Fo'  God's  sake,  Mahsa  Captain,  won't  yo'  be 
that  man  ?" 

Monroe  eyed  him  narrowly  for  an  instant,  and  then  tossed 
away  the  cigar. 

"No  fooling  about  this  business,  mind  you,"  he  said. 


308  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

briefly ;  "what  has  Madame  Caron  to  do  with  any  spy  ?  And 
what  has  Matthew  Loring?" 

"Madame  not  know  she  got  anything  to  do  with  her,"  in 
sisted  Pluto,  eagerly;  "that  gal  come  heah  fo'  maid  to 
Madame  Caron,  an'  then  ole  Nelse  (what  Lorings  use  to 
own)  he  saw  her,  an'  that  scare  her  plum  off  the  place.  An' 
the  reason  why  Mahsa  Loring  is  in  it  is  'cause  that  fine 
French  maid  is  a  runaway  slave  o'  his — or  maybe  she  b'long 
to  Miss  Gertrude,  /  don'  know  rightly  which  it  is.  Any 
how,  she's  Margeret's  chile  an'  ought  to  a  knowed  more'n 
to  come  a  'nigh  to  Loring  even  if  she  is  growd  up.  That 
why  I  know  fo'  suah  she  come  back  fo'  some  special  spy 
work — what  else  that  gal  run  herself  in  danger  fo'  nothen'  ?" 

"You'd  better  begin  at  the  beginning  of  this  story,  if  it 
has  one,"  suggested  Monroe,  who  could  see  the  man  was 
intensely  in  earnest,  "and  I  should  like  to  know  why  you 
are  mixing  Madame  Caron  in  the  affair." 

"She  bought  my  baby  fo'  me — saved  him  from  the  trader, 
Mahsa  Captain,"  and  Pluto's  voice  trembled  as  he  spoke. 
"Yo'  reckon  I  evah  fo'get  that  ar?  An'  now  seems  like  as 
how  she's  got  mixed  up  with  troubles,  an'  I  come  to  yo'  fo' 
help  'cause  yo'  a  Linkum  man,  an'  'cause  yo'  her  frien'." 

It  was  twenty  minutes  later  before  Pluto  completed  his 
eager,  hurried  story,  and  at  its  finish  Monroe  knew  all  old 
Nelse  had  told  Delaven,  and  more,  too,  for  confidential  ser 
vants  learn  many  hidden  things,  and  Rosa — afterwards 
Pluto's  wife — knew  why  Margeret's  child  was  sent  to  the 
Larue  estate  for  training.  Mistress  Larue,  whose  con 
science  was  of  the  eminently  conventional  order,  seldom 
permitting  her  to  contest  any  decision  of  her  husband,  yet 
did  find  courage  to  complain  somewhat  of  the  child's  charge 
and  her  ultimate  destination — to  complain,  not  on  moral, 
but  on  financial  grounds — fully  convinced  that  so  wealthy  a 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  309 

man  as  Matthew  Loring  could  afford  to  pay  more  for  her 
keeping  than  the  sum  her  husband  had  agreed  to,  and  that 
the  youth,  Kenneth  McVeigh,  to  whose  estate  the  girl  was. 
partly  sold,  could  certainly  afford  more  of  recompense  than 
his  guardian  had  agreed  to. 

Pluto  told  that  portion  of  the  story  implicating  his  master 
with  considerable  reluctance,  yet  felt  forced  to  tell  it  all,  that 
Monroe  should  be  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  absolute 
secrecy  to  every  one  except  Madame  Caron,  and  she,  of 
course,  must  not  hear  that  part  of  it. 

"Name  o'  God,  no!"  burst  out  Pluto,  in  terror  of  what 
such  a  revelation  would  mean.  "What  yo'  reckon  Madame 
Caron  think  o'  we  all  ef  she  done  heah  that"?  Don't  reckon 
his  own  ma  evah  heard  tell  a  whisper  o'  that  ar;  all  Mahs 
Matt  Loring's  doin's,  that  sale  was — must  a  been!  Mahs. 

Ken  wan't  only  a  boy  then — not  more'n  fifteen,  so  yo'  see 

»> 

Monroe  made  no  comment,  though  he  also  had  a  vision, 
of  what  it  would  mean  if  Madame  Caron — she  of  all  women ! 
— should  hear  this  evidently  true  story  just  as  Pluto  related 
it. 

He  walked  along  the  rose  hedge  and  back  again  in  si 
lence,  the  colored  man  regarding  him  anxiously ;  finally  he 
said: 

"All  right,  my  man.  I'll  speak  to  Madame  and  be  careful 
not  to  tell  her  too  much.  You  are  all  right,  Pluto ;  you  did 
right  to  come  to  me." 

Some  one  called  Pluto  from  the  window.  He  was  about 
to  go  when  Monroe  asked : 

"What  about  that  picture  you  said  your  wife  had  of  the 
girl  ?  Madame  Caron  may  not  be  easy  to  convince.  You'd 
better  let  me  have  it  to  show  her.  Is  it  a  good  likeness  ?" 

"'Fore  God  /  don'  know!     I  only  reckon  it  is,  'cause. 


310  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Nelse  took  her,  on  sight,  fo'  Margeret's  ghost,  which 
shows  it  must  be  the  plain  image  of  her !  I  done  been  so 
upset  since  I  got  back  home  with  Zekal  I  nevah  had  a 
minute  to  look  ovah  Rosa's  b'longens',  but  the  likeness  is 
in  that  bundle  somewhere;  Rosa  alles  powerful  careful  o' 
that  locket  thing,  an'  kep'  it  put  away ;  don't  mind  as  I  evah 
seen  it  but  once,  jest  when  we  fust  married.  I'd  a  clean 
fo'got  all  'bout  it,  only  fo'  an  accident — an'  that's  the 
woman  now  it  was  painted  from." 

He  pointed  to  a  window  where  Margeret  stood  outlined 
for  an  instant  against  the  bright  background. 

"Don't  look  more  like  her  now,  I  reckon,"  he  continued, 
"all  her  trouble  must  a'  changed  her  mightily,  fo'  the  ole 
folks  do  say  she  was  counted  a  beauty  once.  Little  Rhoda 
went  a'most  crazy  when  some  one  stole  the  locket,  so  Rosa 
said;  then  by  and  by  the  gal  what  took  it  got  scared — 
thought  it  was  a  hoodoo — an'  fetched  it  back,  but  Rhoda 
gone  away  then.  My  Rosa  took  it  an'  kep'  it  faithful, 
waiten'  fo'  that  chile  to  come  back,  but  she  nevah  come  back 
while  Rosa  lived." 

Monroe  was  staring  still  at  the  figure  of  Margeret,  seen 
dimly,  now,  through  the  window. 

"Look  here !"  he  said,  sharply,  "if  the  old  man  recognized 
the  likeness,  how  comes  it  that  the  mother  herself  did  not 
see  it?" 

"Why,  Margeret  she  not  get  here  till  nex'  day  after  Mad 
ame  Caron's  maid  start  down  the  river  to  take  the  cars  fo' 
Savannah,"  explained  Pluto.  "Then  Miss  Gertrude  come  a 
visiten'  an*  fetch  Margeret  along.  Yo'  see,  sah,  that  woman 
done  been  made  think  her  chile  dead  a  long  time  ago,  an' 
when  Margeret  went  clean  'stracted  the  word  went  down  to 
Larues  that  she  dead  or  dyen' — one!  any  way  my  Rosa 
nevah  know'd  no  different  till  Larues  moved  back  from 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  311 

Georgy,  so  there  wan't  no  one  heah  to  'dentify  her,  an'  there 
wan't  no  one  heah  to  let  that  gal  know  she  had  a  liven 
mammy." 

Again  Caroline  called  Pluto. 

"Go  on,"  said  Monroe,  "but  get  me  the  picture  soon  as 
you  can.  I  leave  in  the  morning." 

"I  be  right  heah  with  it  in  hour's  time,"  promised  Pluto ; 
"don'  reckon  I  can  slip  away  any  sooner,  a  sight  o'  quality 
folks  a'  comen'." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

As  Monroe  entered  the  hall  Judithe  came  down  the  stairs, 
a  dainty  vision  in  palest  rose.  She  wore  armlets  and  girdle 
of  silver  filagree,  a  silver  comb  in  the  dark  tresses,  and  large 
filagree  loops  in  her  ears  gave  the  beautiful  face  a  half- 
oriental  character. 

Admire  her  though  he  must,  he  felt  an  impatience  with 
her,  a  wonder  that  so  beautiful  a  being,  one  so  blest  with  all 
the  material  things  of  life,  should  forsake  harmony,  home, 
and  her  own  land,  for  the  rude  contests  where  men  fought, 
and  plotted,  and  died — died  ingloriously  sometimes,  for  the 
plots  and  intrigues  through  which  she  claimed  to  find  the 
only  escape  from  ennui. 

She  saw  him,  hesitated  an  instant,  and  then  came  towards 
him,  with  a  suggestion  of  daring  in  her  eyes. 

"I  might  as  well  hear  the  worst,  first  as  last,"  she  said, 
taking  his  arm.  "Is  not  the  veranda  more  cool  than  in 
here  ?  Come,  we  shall  see.  I  prefer  to  be  out  of  hearing  of 
the  people  while  you  lecture  me  for  today's  mishap." 


312  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

She  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  pretense  of  dread  such  as  a 
child  might  show;  she  was  pleased  to  be  alluringly  gra 
cious,  but  he  could  feel  that  she  was  more  nervous  than  she 
had  ever  shown  herself  before — the  strain  was  telling  on 
her.  Her  beautiful  eyes  were  not  so  slumbrous  as  usual ; 
they  were  brilliant  as  from  some  inward  fever,  and,  though 
she  smiled  and  met  his  sombre  gaze  with  a  challenge,  she 
smothered  a  sigh  under  her  light  words. 

"I  shan't  lecture  you,  Madame  Caron ;  I  have  no  right  to 
interfere  with  what  you  call  your — amusements,"  and  he 
glanced  down  at  her,  grimly;  "but  I  leave  in  the  morning 
because  by  remaining  longer  I  might  gain  knowledge 
which,  in  honor,  I  should  feel  bound  to  report." 

"To  Colonel — or,  shall  we  say,  General — McVeigh  ?" 

He  bent  his  head,  and  answered :  "I  have  given  you 
warning.  He  is  my  friend." 

"And  I  ?"  she  asked,  glancing  at  him  with  a  certain  arch 
ness.  He  looked  down  at  her,  but  did  not  speak. 

"And  I?"  she  repeated. 

"No,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "You,  Madame,  would  have 
to  be  something  more,  or  something  less.  The  fates  have 
decreed  that  it  be  less — so,"  he  made  a  little  gesture  dis 
missing  the  subject.  "Pardon  me,  but  I  did  not  mean  to  at 
tack  you  in  that  fashion.  I  came  to  look  for  you  to  ask  you 
a  question  relating  to  the  very  pretty,  very  clever,  maid  you 
had  in  New  Orleans,  and  whom,  I  hear,  you  brought  with 
you  on  your  visit  here." 

"Oh!  You  are  curious  as  to  her — and  you  wish  me  to 
answer  questions?" 

"If  you  please,  though  it  really  does  not  matter  to  me. 
Are  you  aware  that  thfe  woman  was  a  runaway  slave,  and 
liable  to  recapture  in  this  particular  vicinity  ?" 

"In  this  particular  vicinity?"  she  repeated,  questioningly. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  313 

"Yes,  if  Matthew  Loring  should  once  get  suspicion  of  the 
fact  that  your  maid  was  really  his  girl  Rosa — no,  Rhoda — 
it  would  be  an  awkward  fact  allied  to  the  episode  here  to 
day,"  and  he  made  a  gesture  towards  the  library  window 
they  were  just  passing. 

"Come,  we  will  go  down  the  steps,"  she  suggested.  They 
did  so,  and  were  promenading  under  the  trees,  lantern  lit, 
on  the  lawn,  when  Colonel  McVeigh  came  out  on  the 
veranda  and  felt  a  momentary  envy  of  Monroe,  who  was 
free  from  a  host's  duties.  They  were  clear  of  the  steps  and 
of  probable  listeners  before  Judithe  asked : 

"Where  did  you  get  this  information?" 

"From  a  slave  who  wanted  you  warned  that  you,  with 
out  knowing  it,  are  probably  harboring  the  spy  whom  Cap 
tain  Masterson  spoke  of  today." 

"Ah,  a  slave?"  she  remarked, thoughtfully; and  the  curi 
ous,  intense  gaze  of  Margeret  was  recalled  to  her,  only  to  be 
followed  by  the  memory  of  Pluto's  anxiety  that  Louise 
should  leave  before  the  arrival  of  the  Lorings ;  it  was,  then, 
without  doubt,  Pluto  who  gave  the  warning;  but  she  re 
membered  Zekal,  and  felt  she  had  little  to  be  anxious  over. 

"You  probably  are  not  aware,"  he  continued,  "what  a 
very  serious  affair  it  is  considered  here  to  .assist  in  hiding 
a  slave  of  that  sort  under  assumed  names  or  occupations. 
But  if  it  is  discovered  it  would  prove  ruinous  to  you  just 
now." 

"In  three  days  I  shall  be  out  of  the  country,"  she  an 
swered,  briefly.  "I  go  down  to  Savannah,  secure  Louise 
from  this  blunder — for  there  is  really  nothing  to  be  proven 
against  her  as  a  spy — and  then,  farewell,  or  ill,  to  Carolina. 
I  do  not  expect  to  enter  it  again.  My  arrangements  are  all 
made.  Nothing  has  been  forgotten.  As  to  my  good 
Louise,  your  informer  has  not  been  made  acquainted  with 


314  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

all  the  facts.  It  is  true  she  was  a  Georgian  slave,  but  is  so 
no  longer.  For  over  a  year  she  has  been  in  possession  of 
the  papers  establishing  her  freedom.  Her  own  money,  and 
a  clever  lawyer,  arranged  all  that  without  any  trouble  what 
ever.  What  Monsieur  Loring  would  do  if  he  knew  I  had 
a  maid  whose  name  was  assumed,  I  neither  know  nor  care. 
He  could  not  identify  her  as  the  girl  Rhoda  Larue,  even  if 
he  saw  her.  His  sight  has  failed  until  he  could  not  distin 
guish  you  from  Colonel  McVeigh  if  across  the  room.  I 
learned  that  fact  through  Madame  McVeigh  before  leaving 
Mobile,  so,  you  perceive,  I  have  not  risked  so  much  in  mak 
ing  the  journey  with  my  pretty  maid ;  and  I  shall  risk  no 
more  when  I  make  my  adieus  the  day  after  tomorrow.". 

She  laughed,  and  looked  up  in  his  face.  He  looked  down 
in  her's,  but  he  did  not  laugh. 

"And  the  estate  you  have  just  purchased  in  order  to  enjoy 
this  Eden-like  plantation  life  ?" 

"The  purpose  for  which  it  was  purchased  will  be  carried 
out  quite  as  well  without  my  presence,"  she  said,  quietly.  "I 
never  meant  to  live  there." 

"Well,  that  beats  me!"  he  said,  halting,  and  looking 
squarely  down  at  her.  "You  spend  thousands  to  establish 
yourself  in  the  heart  of  a  seceding  country,  and  gain  the 
confidence  of  the  natives,  and  then  toss  it  all  aside  as  though 
it  were  only  a  trifle !  You  must  have  spent  fortunes  from 
your  own  pocket  to  help  the  Federals  !" 

"So  your  President  was  good  enough  to  say  in  the  letter 
I  tried  to  show  you — and  did  not,"  she  replied,  and  then 
smiled,  as  she  added,  "but  you  are  mistaken,  Captain  Mon 
roe  ;  it  was  only  one  fortune  spent,  and  I  will  be  recom 
pensed." 

"When?" 

"When  that  long-talked-of  emancipation  is  announced." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  315 

The  bright  music  of  a  mazurka  stole  out  of  the  open  win 
dows,  and  across  the  level  could  be  seen  a  blaze  of  fat  pine 
torches  tied  to  poles  and  shedding  lustre  and  black  pitch 
over  the  negro  quarters — they  also  were  celebrating  "Malis 
Ken's"  return.  Above  the  dreamy  rhythm  of  the  parlor 
dances  they  could  hear  at  times  the  exuberant  calls  and 
shouts  of  laughter  where  the  dark  people  made  merry. 
Judge  Clarkson,  who  was  descending  the  steps,  halted  to 
listen,  and  drew  Monroe's  attention  to  it. 

"Happy  as  children  they  are,  over  there  tonight,"  he  re 
marked.  "Most  contented  people  on  earth,  I  do  believe." 
He  addressed  some  gallant  words  to  Judithe,  and  then 
turned  to  Monroe. 

"Mr.  Loring  has  been  inquiring  for  you,  Captain  Monroe. 
You  understand,  of  course,  that  you  are  somewhat  of  a  lion 
and  one  we  cannot  afford  to  have  hidden.  He  is  waiting  to 
introduce  you  to  some  of  our  Carolina  friends,  who  appre 
ciate  you,  sir,  for  the  protection  shown  a  daughter  of  the 
South,  and  from  your  magnanimous  care  of  a  Carolina  boy 
this  past  month — oh,  your  fame  has  preceded  you,  and  I  as 
sure  you,  sir,  you  have  earned  for  yourself  a  hearty  wel 
come." 

Evilena  joined  them,  followed  by  Delaven,  who  asked  for 
a  dance  and  was  flouted  because  he  did  not  wear  a  uniform. 
She  did  present  him  with  a  scarlet  flower  from  her  bouquet, 
with  the  remark  that  if  decked  with  something  bright  he 
might  be  a  little  less  suggestive  of  funerals,  and,  attaching 
herself  to  Monroe,  she  left  to  look  up  Matthew  Loring. 

Delaven  looked  ruefully  at  the  scarlet  flower. 

"It's  a  poor  substitute  for  herself,"  he  decided,  "but,  tell 
me  now,  Marquise,  if  you  were  fathoms  deep  in  love,  as  I 
am  this  minute,  and  had  so  much  of  encouragement  as  a 


316  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

flower  flung  at  you,  what  would  you  advise  as  the  next 
move  in  Cupid's  game  ?" 

She  assumed  a  droll  air  of  serious  contemplation  for  an 
instant,  and  then  replied,  in  one  word : 

"Propose." 

"I'll  do  it,"  he  decided ;  "ah,  you  are  a  jewel  of  a  woman  to 
give  a  man  courage !  I'll  lay  siege  to  her  before  I'm  an 
hour  older.  Judge,  isn't  it  you  would  lend  a  boy  a  hand 
in  a  love  affair?  I'm  bewitched  by  one  of  the  fair  daughters 
of  the  South  you  are  so  proud  of;  I  find  I  am  madly  jealous 
of  every  other  lad  who  leads  her  onto  the  dancing  floor  this 
night,  but  every  one  of  them  has  dollars  where  I  have 
dimes,"  and  he  sighed  like  a  furnace  and  glanced  from  one 
to  the  .other  with  a  comical  .look  of  distress ;  "so  is  it  any 
wonder  I  need  all  the  bracing  up  my  friends  can  give  me?" 

"My  dear  sir,"  said  the  Judge,  genially,  "our  girls  are  not 
mercenary.  You  are  a  gentleman,  so  need  fear  comparison 
with  none !  You  have  an  active  brain,  a  high  degree  of  in 
telligence,  a  profession  through  which  you  may  win  both 
wealth  and  honors  for  the  lady  in  question — so  why  pro 
crastinate  ?" 

"Judge,  you  are  a  trump !  With  you  to  back  me  up  with 
that  list  of  advantages,  I'll  dare  the  fates." 

"I  am  your  obedient  servant,  sir.  I  like  your  enthusiasm 
— your  determination  to  put  the  question  to  the  test.  I  ap 
prove  of  early  marriages,  myself;  procrastination  and  long 
engagements  are  a  mistake,  sir — a  mistake !" 

"They  are,"  agreed  Delaven,  with  a  decision  suggestive 
of  long  experience  in  such  matters.  "Faith,  you  two  are  life 
preservers  to  me.  I  feel  light  as  a  cork  with  one  of  you  on 
each  side — though  it  was  doleful  enough  I  was  ten  minutes 
ago !  You  see,  Judge,  the  lady  who  is  to  decide  my  fate  has 
valued  your  friendship  and  advice  so  long  that  I  count  on 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  317 

you — I  really  do,  now,  and  if  you'd  just  say  a  good  word 
to  her—" 

"A  word !  My  dear  sir,  my  entire  vocabulary  is  at  your 
service  in  an  affair  of  the  heart."  The  Judge  beamed  on 
Delaven  and  bowed  to  Madame  Caron  as  though  including 
her  in  the  circle  where  Love's  sceptre  is  ever  potent. 

"Faith,  when  America  becomes  a  monarchy,  I'll  vote  for 
you  to  be  king,"  and  Delaven  grasped  the  hand  of  the 
Judge  and  shook  it  heartily ;  "and  if  you  can  only  convince 
Mrs.  McVeigh  that  I  am  all  your  fancy  has  pictured  me, 
I'll  be  the  happiest  man  in  Carolina  tonight." 

"What!"  Judge  Clarks9n  dropped  his  hand  as  though 
it  had  burned  him,  and  fairly  glared  at  the  self-confessed 
lover. 

"I  would  that! — the  happiest  man  in  Carolina,  barring 
none,"  said  the  reckless  Irishman,  so  alive  with  his  own 
hopes  that  he  failed  to  perceive  the  consternation  in  the  face 
of  the  Judge ;  but  Judithe  saw  it,  and,  divining  the  cause, 
laughed  softly,  while  Delaven  continued :  "You  see,  Judge, 
Mrs.  McVeigh  will  listen  to  you  and — " 

"Young  man !"  began  Clarkson,  austerely,  but  at  that 
moment  the  lady  in  question  appeared  on  the  veranda  and 
waved  her  fan  to  Delaven. 

"Doctor,  as  a  dancing  man  your  presence  in  the  house 
would  be  most  welcome,"  she  said,  coming  slowly  down  the 
steps  towards  them. 

"Madame,  both  my  feet  and  my  heart  are  at  your  dis 
posal,"  he  said,  hastening  to  meet  her,  and  passing  on  to 
find  some  unpartnered  damsels  she  suggested. 

"What  a  charming  young  man  he  is,"  remarked  their 
hostess,  "and  exceedingly  skillful  in  his  profession  for  so 
young  a  physician.  Don't  you  consider  him  very  bright, 
Judge  ?" 

21 


318  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"I,  Madame — I?"  and  Judithe  retired,  convulsed  at  the 
situation ;  "on  my  word,  I  wouldn't  trust  him  to  doctor  a 
sick  cat !"  Mrs.  McVeigh  looked  astonished  at  the  intensity 
of  his  words  and  was  fairly  puzzled  to  see  Judithe  laughing 
on  the  seat  under  the  tree. 

"Why,  Judge!  I'm  actually  surprised!  He  is  most 
highly  esteemed  professionally,  and  in  Paris — " 

"Pardon  me,  but  I  presume  his  hair  was  "the  same  color 
in  Paris  that  it  is  here,"  said  the  Judge,  coldly,  "and  I  have 
never  in  my  life  known  a  red-headed  man  who  had  any 
sense,  or — " 

"Oh!"  Mrs.  McVeigh  glanced  slowly  from  the  Judge  to 
Judithe  and  then  smiled;  "I  remember  one  exception, 
Judge,  for  before  your  hair  became  white  it  was — well,  au 
burn,  at  least." 

The  Judge  ran  his  ringers  through  the  bushy  curls  re 
ferred  to.  The  man  usually  so  eloquent  and  ready  of 
speech,  was  checkmated.  He  could  only  stammer  some 
thing  about  exceptions  to  rules,  and  finally  said : 

"You  will  probably  remember,  however,  that  my  hair 
was  very  dark — a  dark  red,  in  fact,  a — a — brown  red." 

Judithe,  to  hide,  her  amusement,  had  moved  around  to 
the  other  side  of  the  tree  circled  by  the  rustic  seat.  Her 
hostess  turned  one  appealing  glance  towards  her,  unseen  by 
the  Judge,  who  had  forgotten  all  but  the  one  woman  before 
him. 

"No  matter  if  he  had  hair  all  colors  of  the  rainbow  he  is 
not  worthy  of  you,  Madame,"  he  blurted  out,  and  Mrs.  Mc 
Veigh  took  a  step  away  from  him  in  dismay ;  in  all  her 
knowledge  of  Judge  Clarkson,  she  had  never  seen  him  show 
quite  so  intense  a  dislike  for  any  one. 

"Why,  Judge !  What  is  the  matter  tonight  ?"  she  asked, 
in  despair.  "You  mean  Dr.  Delaven  ;  not  worthy  of  me  ?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  319 

"He  aspires  to  your  hand,"  blurted  out  the  Judge,  an 
grily.  "Such  an  ambition  is  a  worthy  one ;  it  is  one  I  my 
self  have  cherished  for  years,  but  you  must  confess  I  had  the 
courage  to  ask  your  hand  in  person." 

"Yes,  Judge ;  but—" 

"This  fellow,  on  the  contrary,  has  had  the  affrontery  to 
come  to  me — to  me!  with  the  request  that  I  use  my  in 
fluence  in  negotiating  a  matrimonial  alliance  with  you !" 

Mrs.  McVeigh  stared  at  him  a  moment,  and  then  frankly 
laughed ;  she  suspected  it  was  some  joke  planned  by  Evilena. 
But  the  indignation  of  the  Judge  was  no  joke. 

"Well,  Judge,  when  I  contemplate  a  matrimonial  alliance, 
I  can  assure  you  that  no  one's  influence  would  have  quite 
so  much  weight  as  your  own ;"  she  had  ascended  the  steps 
and  was  laughing;  at  the  top  she  leaned  over  and  added, 
"no  matter  for  whom  you  employ  your  eloquence,  Judge ;" 
and  with  that  parting  shot  she  disappeared  into  the  hall,  leav 
ing  him  in  puzzled  doubt  as  to  her  meaning.  But  the  ques 
tion  did  not  require  much  consideration.  The  remembrance 
of  the  smile  helped  clear  it  up  wonderfully.  He  clasped  his 
hands  under  his  coat  tails,  threw  back  his  shoulders,  walked 
the  length  of  the  veranda  and  back  with  head  very  erect. 
He  was  a  very  fine  figure  of  a  man. 

"The  Irishman's  case  is  quashed,"  he  said,  nodding  em 
phatically  and  confidentially  to  the  oleander  bush ;  "the  fact 
that  a  woman,  and  that  woman  a  widow,  remembers  the 
color  of  the  plaintiff's  hair  for  twenty  years,  should  convince 
the  said  plaintiff  if  he  is  a  man  possessed  of  a  legal  mind, 
that  his  case  is  still  on  the  calendar.  I'll  go  and  ask  for  the 
next  dance." 

He  had  scarcely  reached  the  steps  when  Judithe  saw  a 
flutter  of  white  where  the  shadows  were  heaviest  under  the 
dense  green  shrubbery.  She  glanced  about  her ;  no  one  was 


320  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

in  hearing.  The  veranda,  for  the  instant,  was  deserted,  and 
past  the  windows  the  dancers  were  moving.  The  music  of 
stringed  instruments  and  of  laughter  floated  out  to  her.  She 
saw  Masterson  in  the  hallway;  he  was  watching  Monroe. 
She  saw  Kenneth  McVeigh  speaking  to  his  mother  and 
glancing  around  inquiringly ;  was  he  looking  for  her  ?  She 
realized  that  her  moments  alone  now  would  be  brief,  and 
she  moved  swiftly  under  the  trees  to  where  the  signal  had 
been  made.  A  man  had  been  lying  there  flat  to  the  ground. 
He  arose  as  she  approached,  and  she  saw  he  was  dressed  in 
Confederate  uniform,  and  that  he  wore  no  beard — it  was 
Pierson. 

"Why  did  you  leave  the  place  without  seeing  me  again  ?" 
she  demanded.  "This  suspense  seems  to  me  entirely  un 
necessary." 

"It  was  the  best  I  could  do,  Madame,"  he  answered,  hur 
riedly.  "Masterson,  unknown  to  the  McVeighs,  had  spies 
within  hearing  of  every  word  between  us,  and  to  write  was 
too  great  a  risk.  His  man  followed  me  beyond  the  second 
fortification." 

"And  you  eluded  him?" 

"No ;  I  left  him,"  answered  Pierson,  grimly.  "I  wore  his 
uniform  back — he  did  not  need  it." 

Judithe  drew  a  deep,  shuddering  breath,  but  made  no  com 
ment.  "Give  me  the  contents  of  the  destroyed  despatch," 
was  all  she  said. 

"McVeigh  received  official  notification  of  promotion  to 
day.  Important  instructions  were  included  as  to  the  move 
ments  of  his  brigade.  These  instructions  must  be  received 
by  us  tonight  in  order  to  learn  their  plans  for  this  wing  of 
the  army." 

"And  you  depend  on  me  ?" 

"No  other  way  to  secure  them  quickly,  but  some  of  our 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  321 

men  have  been  landed  north  of  Beaufort.  They  are  under 
cover  in  the  swamp  and  cane  brakes  awaiting  your  com 
mands — so  if  it  can't  be  done  quietly  there  is  another  way 
— a  raid  for  any  purpose  you  may  suggest,  and  incidentally 
these  instructions  would  be  among  the  souvenirs  from  this 
especial  plantation." 

"Colonel  McVeigh  remains  only  over  tomorrow  night. 
Suppose  I  succeed,  how  shall  I  communicate  with  you  or 
with  the  detachment  of  Federals  ?" 

"I  will  return  tonight  after  the  house  is  quiet.  I  shall  be 
in  sight  of  the  balcony.  You  could  drop  them  from  there ; 
or,  if  you  have  any  better  plan  of  your  own  I  will  act  on  it." 

She  could  see  Kenneth  on  the  veranda,  and  knew  he  was 
looking  for  her.  The  moments  were  precious  now ;  she  had 
to  think  quick. 

"It  may  not  be  possible  to  secure  them  tonight ;  the  time 
is  so  short ;  and  if  not  I  can  only  suggest  that  the  commander 
of  the  landed  troops  send  a  detachment  tomorrow,  capture 
Colonel  McVeigh  and  Captain  Masterson,  and  get  the 
papers  at  the  same  time.  There  are  also  official  documents 
in  McVeigh's  possession  relating  to  the  English  commis 
sions  for  additions  to  the  Confederate  Navy.  I  must  go ;  they 
are  looking  for  me.  You  can  trust  a  black  man  here  called 
Pluto — but  do  not  forget  that  a  detachment  of  Confederates 
came  today  to  the  fortifications  below  here,  don't  let  our 
men  clash  with  them  ;  good  bye  ;  make  no  mistake." 

She  moved  away  as  she  spoke,  and  the  man  dropped  back 
unseen  into  the  shadows  as  she  went  smilingly  forward  to 
meet  the  lover,  whose  downfall  she  was  debating  with  such 
cool  judgment. 

And  the  lover  came  to  meet  her  with  ardent  blue  eyes 
aglow. 

"Have  you  fled  to  the  shadows  to  avoid  us  all?"  he  de- 


322  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

manded,  and  then  as  he  slipped  her  hand  through  his  arm 
and  looked  down  in  her  face,  he  asked,  more  tenderly,  "or 
may  I  think  you  only  left  the  crowd  to  think  over  my  au 
dacity." 

She  gave  him  one  fleeting,  upward  glance,  half  inviting, 
half  reproving — it  would  help  concentrate  his  attention  until 
the  man  in  the  shadows  was  beyond  all  danger  of  discov 
ery.  » 

"You  make  use  of  every  pretext  to  avoid  me,"  he  con 
tinued,  "but  it  won't  serve  you ;  no  matter  what  cool  things 
you  say  now,  I  can  only  hear  through  your  words  the  mean 
ing  of  those  Fontainbleau  days,  and  that  one  day  in  Paris 
when  you  loved  me  and  dared  to  say  it.  Judithe,  give  me 
my  answer.  I  thought  I  could  wait  until  tomorrow,  but  I 
can't ;  you  must  tell  me  tonight ;  you  must !" 

"Must?"  She  drew  away  from  him  and  leaned  against 
a  tall  garden  vase  overrun  with  clustering  vines.  They  were 
in  the  full  blaze  of  light  from  the  windows;  she  felt  safer 
there  where  they  were  likely  to  be  interrupted  every  minute ; 
the  man  surely  dared  not  be  wildly  sentimental  in  full  view 
of  the  crowd — which  conclusion  showed  that  she  was  not 
yet  fully  aware  of  what  Kenneth  McVeigh  would  dare  do 
where  a  woman — or  the  woman — was  in  question. 

"An  hour  ago  you  said :  'Will  you  ?'  Now  it  is :  'You 
must !'  "  she  said,  with  a  fine  little  smile.  "How  quick  you 
are  to  assume  the  tone  of  master,  Monsieur." 

"If  you  said  slave, the  picture  would  have  been  more  com 
plete,"  he  answered.  "I  will  obey  you  in  all  things  except 
when  you  tell  me  to  leave  you ;"  he  had  possessed  himself  of 
her  hand,  under  cover  of  the  vines  ;  "it's  no  use,  Judithe,  you 
belong  to  me.  I  can't  let  you  go  from  me  again ;  I  won't !" 

All  of  pleading  was  in  his  voice  and  eyes.  Moved  by  some 
sudden  impulse  not  entirely  guileless,  she  looked  full  at  him 
and  let  her  hand  remain  in  his. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  323 

"Well,  since  you  really  cannot,"  she  murmured. 

"Judithe !  You  mean  it  ?"  and  in  an  instant  both  his  hands 
were  clasping  hers.  "You  are  not  coquetting  with  me  this 
time?  Judithe!" 

She  attempted  to  draw  her  hand  away,  but  he  bent  his 
head,  and  kissed  the  warm  palm.  Margeret  who  was  light 
ing  an  extinguished  lantern,  saw  the  caress  and  heard  the 
low,  deep  tones.  She  turned  and  retraced  her  steps  instead 
of  passing  them. 

"Do  you  realize  that  all  who  run  may  read  the  subject  of 
your  discourse  ?"  she  asked,  raising  her  brows  and  glancing 
after  the  retreating  woman. 

"Let  them,  the  sooner  they  hear  it  the  better  I  shall  be 
pleased;  come,  let  us  tell  my  mother;  I  want  to  be  sure 
of  you  this  time,  my  beautiful  Judithe.  What  time  more  fit 
ting  than  this  for  the  announcement — come !" 

"What  is  it  you  would  tell  her?"  she  asked,  looking 
straight  ahead  of  her  into  the  shadows  on  the  lawn.  Her 
voice  sounded  less  musical  than  it  had  a  moment  before. 
Her  eyes  avoided  his,  and  for  one  unguarded  instant  the  full 
sculpturesque  lips  were  tense  and  rigid. 

"What  is  it  ?"  he  repeated,  "why,  that  I  adore  you !  that 
you  have  been  the  one  woman  in  the  world  to  me  ever  since 
I  met  you  first ;  that  I  want  you  for  my  wife,  and  that  you — 
confess  it  again  in  words,  Judithe — that  you  love  me." 

She  shook  her  head  slowly,  but  accompanied  that  half  de 
nial  with  a  bewildering  smile. 

"Entirely  too  much  to  announce  in  one  evening,"  she 
decided;  "do  you  forget  they  have  had  other  plans  for  you? 
We  must  give  your  family  more  time  to  grow  accustomed 
to  me  and  to — your  wishes." 

"Our  wishes,"  he  said,  correctively,  and  she  dropped  her 


324  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

eyes  and  bent  her  head  in  assent.  She  was  adorable  in  the 
final  surrender.  He  murmured  endearing,  caressing  words 
to  her,  and  the  warm  color  merged  across  her  face,  and  re 
ceding,  left  her  a  trifle  pale.  All  her  indifference  had  been  a 
pretense — he  knew  it  now,  and  it  strengthened  his  protests 
against  delay.  He  drew  her  away  from  the  steps  as  the 
dance  ended,  and  the  people  came  chattering  and  laughing 
out  from  the  brilliantly  lit  rooms. 

"You  talk  of  haste,  but  forget  that  I  have  waited  three 
years,  Judithe;  remember  that,  won't  you?  Put  that  three 
years  to  my  credit ;  consider  that  I  wooed  you  every  day  of 
every  year,  and  I  would  if  I  had  been  given  the  chance! 
You  talk  of  time  as  if  there  were  oceans  of  it  for  us,  and  you 
forget  that  I  have  but  one  more  day  to  be  with  you — one 
day ;  and  then  separation,  uncertainty.  I  can't  leave  you 
like  that,  now  that  I  know  you  care  for  me — I  won't." 

•'Oh — h  !"  and  she  met  his  look  with  a  little  quizzical  smile. 
"You  mean  to  resign  your  commission  for  the  sake  of  my 
society?  But  I  am  not  sure  I  should  admire  you  so  much 
then.  I  am  barbarian  enough  to  like  a  fighter." 

"I  should  fight  all  the  better  for  knowing  it  was  a  wife  I 
was  leaving  behind  instead  of  a  sweetheart,  Judithe ;  marry 
me  tomorrow !" 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  protest,  but  he  clasped  her 
hand  in  his  and  held  it  close  to  prevent  her  from  repeat 
ing  it.  "Why  not?"  he  continued.  "No  one  need  know  un 
less  you  wish;  it  can  be  kept  secret  as  the  engagement 
would  be.  Then,  wherever  the  fortunes  of  war  may  send  me, 
I  can  carry  with  me  the. certainty  of  your  love.  Speak  to 
me,  Judithe !  Say  yes.  I  have  waited  three  years ;  I  want 
my  wife !" 

"Your  wife !  Your — oh !" — and  she  flung  out  her  hands  as 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  325 

though  putting  the  thought  away  from  her.  A  tear  fell  on 
his  hand — she  was  weeping. 

"Judithe,  sweetheart !"  he  murmured,  remorsefully. 

"Tomorrow — not  tonight,"  she  half  whispered.  "I  must 
think,  so  much  is  to  be  considered." 

"No !  Only  one  thing  is  to  be  considered ;"  he  held  her 
hands  and  looked  in  her  face,  with  eyes  ardent,  compelling ; 
"Only  one  thing,  Judithe,  and  that  is,  do  you  love  rne — 
now  ?" 

"Now,  and  from  the  first  day  we  ever  met,"  she  answered, 
looking  up  at  him ;  her  eyes  were  like  stars  glimmering 
through  the  mist  of  late  tears.  There  came  to  them  both  the 
remembrance  of  that  other  avowal,  behind  those  plunging 
horses  in  the  Paris  boulevard.  They  had  unconsciously  re 
peated  the  words  uttered  then. 

For  an  instant  his  arms  were  about  her — such  strong, 
masterful,  compelling  arms.  A  wild  temptation  came  to 
her  to  remain  in  that  shelter — to  let  all  the  world  go  by  with 
its  creeds,  its  plots,  its  wars  of  right  and  wrong — to  live  for 
love,  love  only,  love  with  him. 

"My  queen !"  he  whispered,  as  her  head  bent  in  half  avoid 
ance  of  his  caresses  even  while  her  hand  clasped  his  closely, 
convulsively,  "it  has  all  been  of  no  use;  those  three  years 
when  you  kept  me  away.  It  is  fate  that  we  find  each  other 
again.  I  shall  never  let  you  go  from  me — never!  Do  you 
hear  me,  Judithe  ?  You  are  so  silent ;  but  words  matter  little 
since  you  belong  to  me.  Do  you  realize  it  ? — that  you  must 
belong  to  me  always !" 

The  words  over  which  he  lingered,  words  holding  all  of 
hope  and  happiness  to  him  brought  to  her  a  swift  revulsion 
of  feeling.  She  remembered  those  other  human  creatures 
who  belonged  to  him — she  remembered — 

A  moment  later  and  he  stood  alone  in  the  sweet  dusk  of 


326  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

the  night.  She  had  fairly  run  from  him  along  the  little  arbor 
to  the  side  door,  where  she  vanished  unseen  by  the  others. 
How  sensitive  she  was  for  all  her  queenly  ways !  What  a 
creature  of  moods,  and  passions,  and  emotions !  The  hand 
on  which  her  tear  had  fallen  he  touched  to  his  cheek.  Why 
had  she  wept  at  his  confession  of  love  for  her?  She  had 
not  wept  when  the  same  words  were  spoken  on  that  never- 
to-be-forgotten  day  in  Paris ! 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  love  affair  of  Colonel  McVeigh  was  not  the  only  one 
under  consideration  that  evening,  Delaven  was  following 
up  the  advice  of  the  Judge  and  Madame  Caron  to  the  extent 
of  announcing  to  Mistress  McVeigh  during  a  pause  in  the 
dance  that  his  heart  was  heavy,  though  his  feet  were  light, 
and  that  she  held  his  fate  in  her  hands,  for  he  was  madly  in 
love,  which  statement  she  had  time  to  consider  and  digest 
before  the  quadrille  again  allowed  them  to  come  close 
enough  for  conversation,  when  she  asked  the  meaning  of  his 
mystery. 

"First,  let  me  know,  Mrs.  McVeigh,  which  you  would 
prefer  if  you  had  a  choice — to  have  me  for  your  family  phy 
sician,  or  a  physician  in  your  family?" 

She  smiled  at  the  excentric  question,  but  as  the  dance 
whisked  him  off  just  then  she  waited  for  the  next  install 
ment  of  his  confidence. 

"You  must  tell  me,  first,  what  relationship  you  seek  to 
establish,"  she  demanded,  as  he  came  up  for  his  answer. 

He  looked  at  her  quizzically,  and  seeing  a  slight  gleam  of 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  327 

humor  in  her  fine  eyes,  he  launched  into  the  heart  of  the 
question. 

"What  relationship  ?  Well,  I  should  say  that  of  husband 
and  wife,  if  I  was  not  afraid  of  being  premature ;"  he  glanced 
at  her  and  saw  that  she  was  interested  and  not  in  the  least 
forbidding.  "To  be  sure,  I  am  poor,  while  you  are  wealthy, 
but  I'm  willing  to  overlook  that ;  in  fact,  I'm  willing  to  over 
look  anything,  and  dare  all  things  if  you  would  only  con 
sider  me  favorably — as  a  son-in-law." 

"You  are  actually  serious  ?" 

"Serious,  am  I — on  my  faith,  it's  a  life  and  death  affair 
with  me  this  minute !" 

"And  my  little  Evilena  the  cause  ?" 

"Yes,  our  Evilena,  who  does  not  feel  so  small  as  you  may 
imagine.  Look  at  her  now.  Could  a  dozen  seasons  give 
her  more  confidence  in  her  own  powers  than  she  has  this 
minute  by  reason  of  those  uniformed  admirers? — to  say 
nothing  of  my  own  case." 

"Our  Evilena?"  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  raised  her  brows  in 
quiringly — "then  you  have  proposed?" 

"Indeed,  no !  I  have  not  had  the  courage  until  tonight ; 
but  when  I  see  a  lot  of  lads  daft  as  myself  over  her,  I  just 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  Delaven  that  he'd  better  speak  quick. 
"But  I  would  not  propose  without  asking  your  permission." 

"And  if  I  refused  it?" 

"You  could  not  be  so  hard-hearted  as  that  ?" 

"But  suppose  I  could — and  should?" 

He  caught  the  gleam  of  teasing  light  in  her  eyes,  and 
smiled  back  at  her : 

"I  should  propose  just  the  same !" 

"Well,"  said  Evilena's  mother,  with  a  combination  of 
amusement  and  sympathy  in  her  expression,  "you  may  speak 
to  her  and  let  me  know  the  result." 


328  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"I'd  get  down  on  my  knees  to  kiss  the  toe  of  your  slipper, 
this  minute,"  he  whispered,  gratefully,  "but  the  Judge  would 
scalp  me  if  I  dared ;  he  is  eyeing  me  with  suspicion  already. 
As  to  the  result — well,  if  you  hear  a  serenade  in  the  wee 
small  hours  of  the  night,  don't  let  it  disturb  you.  I've  got 
the  guitar  and  the  uniform  all  ready,  and  if  I  fail  it  will  not 
be  because  I  have  overlooked  any  romantic  adjuncts  to  suc 
cessful  wooing.  I'll  be  under  your  daughter's  window  sing 
ing  'Sweet  Evilena,'  rigged  out  like  a  cavalier  in  a  picture- 
book.  I'm  wishing  I  could  borrow  a  feather  for  the  hat." 

She  laughed  at  the  grotesque  picture  he  suggested,  but 
asked  what  he  meant  by  the  uniform,  and  laughed  still  more 
when  he  told  her  he  was  going  to  borrow  one  for  the  occa 
sion  from  Kenneth,  as  Evilena  had  announced  her  scorn  for 
all  ununiformed  men,  and  he  did  not  mean  to  risk  failure 
in  a  dress  suit.  Later  he  had  an  idea  of  applying  for  a 
uniform  of  his  own  as  surgeon  in  the  army. 

"If  you  could  introduce  that  into  your  serenade  I  have  no 
fear  my  little  girl  would  refuse  you,"  said  Mrs.  McVeigh, 
encouragingly,  "at  least  not  more  than  two  or  three  times." 

On  leaving  Mrs.  McVeigh  he  stumbled  against  Masterson, 
who  was  in  the  shadow  just  outside  the  window  within  which 
Monroe  was  in  interested  converse  with  Matthew  Loring 
and  some  other  residents  of  the  county.  He  had  been  de 
liberately,  and,  in  his  own  opinion,  justifiably,  a  listener  to 
every  sentence  advanced  by  the  suspected  Northerner,  who, 
he  felt,  was  imposing  on  the  hospitality  of  the  South  only  to 
betray  it. 

Ernest  as  his  convictions  were  he  had  not  yet  been  able  to 
discern  the  slightest  trace  of  double  intent  in  any  of  Mon 
roe's  remarks,  which  were,  for  the  most  part,  of  agricultural 
affairs,  foreign  affairs,  even  the  possible  future  of  the  Semi- 
noles  in  the  Florida  swamp ;  of  everything,  in  fact,  but  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  329 

very  vital  question  of  the  day  surrounding  them,  which  only 
tended  to  confirm  his  idea  that  the  man  was  remarkably 
clever,  and  he  despaired  of  securing  sufficient  evidence 
against  him  in  the  brief  time  at  his  disposal. 

He  had  just  arrived  at  that  conclusion  when  Delaven, 
high-hearted  with  hope,  saw  only  the  stars  over  his  head  as 
he  paced  the  veranda,  and  turning  the  corner  stumbled  on 
Masterson. 

There  was  an  exclamation,  some  words  of  apology,  and 
involuntarily  Masterson  stepped  backward  into  the  stream 
of  light  from  the  open  window,  and  Monroe,  looking 
around,  read  the  whole  situation  at  a  glance.  Masterson 
still  suspected  him,  and  was  listening!  Monroe  frankly 
laughed  and  made  a  little  sound,  the  mere  whisper  of  a 
whistle,  as  he  met  Masterson's  baffled  look  with  one  of  cool 
mockery ;  it  was  nonchalant  to  the  verge  of  insolence,  and 
enraged  the  Southerner,  strong  in  his  convictions  of  right, 
as  a  blow  could  not  have  done.  For  a  blow  a  man  could 
strike  back,  but  this  mockery ! 

Delaven  walked  on,  unconscious  of  the  suppressed  feel 
ing  between  the  two.  Masterson  was  handicapped  by  the 
fact  that  he  dared  not  again  mention  his  suspicions  to  the 
McVeigh  family,  and  he  strode  down  the  steps  to  the  lawn, 
furious  at  the  restraint  put  upon  him,  and  conscious,  now, 
that  surveillance  was  useless,  since  the  Northerner  had  been 
put  upon  his  guard. 

His  impatience  filled  him  with  rage.  He  was  honest,  and 
he  was  a  fighter,  but  of  what  use  was  that  since  he  had  blun 
dered?  He  had  dealt  clumsy  strokes  with  both  hands,  but 
the  other  had  parried  each  thrust  with  a  foil.  He  was 
worsted — the  game  was  up,  but  he  at  least  meant  to  let  the 
interloper  know  that  however  clever  he  might  be,  there 
were  some  people,  at  least,  whom  he  could  not  deceive. 


330  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

That  was  the  humor  he  was  in  when  he  saw  Monroe  ex 
cuse  himself  to  Loring,  step  through  the  window,  and  light 
a  cigar,  preparatory  to  a  stroll  towards  the  tryst  with  Pluto. 

Masterson  watched  him  sauntering  carelessly  down  the 
steps.  He  had  removed  the  cigar  and  was  whistling  very 
softly,  unconsciously,  as  one  who  is  deep  in  some  quandary, 
but  to  Masterson  it  seemed  the  acme  of  studious  carelessness 
to  ignore  his  own  presence ;  it  seemed  insolent  as  the  mock 
ing  glance  through  the  window,  and  it  decided  him.  His 
shoulders  unconsciously  squared  as  he  stepped  forward. 

"Captain  Monroe,  I  want  a  word  with  you,"  and  his  tone 
was  a  challenge  in  itself.  Monroe  turned  his  head,  slowly, 
finished  the  bar  he  was  whistling  in  a  slightly  louder  tone — 
loud  enough  to  distinguish  that  it  was  "Rally  'Round  the 
Flag,"  whistled  very  badly.  Monroe  had  evidently  little 
music  in  his  soul,  however  much  patriotism  he  had  in  his 
heart. 

"Only  one,  I  hope,"  he  said,  carelessly,  with  an  irritating 
smile. 

"You  may  have  to  listen  to  several  before  you  get  away 
from  here!" 

"From — you?"  and  there  was  perceptible  doubt  in  the 
tone;  it  added  to  Masterson's  conviction  of  his  own  impo 
tence.  He  dared  not  fight  the  man  unless  Monroe  gave  the 
challenge,  though  it  was  the  one  thing  he  wanted  to  do 
with  all  his  heart. 

"From  those  in  authority  over  this  section,"  he  said, 
sternly. 

"Ah ! — that  is  a  different  matter." 

"You  may  find  it  a  very  serious  matter,  Captain  Monroe.'* 

"Oh,  no;  I  shan't  find  it,  I'm  not  looking  for  it,"  and 
Monroe  softly  resumed,  "The  Union  Forever." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  331 

"If  you  take  my  advice,"  began  Masterson,  angrily, 
"you'll" — but  Monroe  shook  his  head. 

"I  shan't,  so  don't  mention  it,"  he  said,  blandly.  Master- 
son's  wordy  anger  showed  him  that  he  was  master  of  the 
situation,  so  he  only  smiled  as  he  added,  "Advice,  you  know, 
is  something  everybody  gives  and  nobody  takes,"  and  Mon 
roe  resumed  his  whistle. 

"You  think  yourself  cursedly  clever,"  and  it  was  an  effort 
for  Masterson  to  keep  from  striking  the  cool,  insolent  face. 
"You  thought  so  today  when  Madame  Caron  was  suspected 
instead  of  yourself." 

"Madame  Caron  !"  Monroe  ceased  the  whistle  and  looked 
at  him  with  a  momentary  frown,  which  Masterson  welcomed 
as  a  sign  of  anger. 

"Ah,  that  touches  you,  does  it  ?" 

"Only  with  wonder  that  you  dare  speak  of  her  after  your 
failure  to  make  her  the  victim  of  your  spies  today,"  and 
Monroe's  tone  was  again  only  contemptuous.  "First  you  ar 
rest  me,  then  accuse  Madame  Caron.  Evidently  you  are 
out  of  your  sphere  in  detective  work ;  it  really  requires  con 
siderable  cleverness,  you  know..  Yet,  if  it  amuses  you — 
well" — he  made  a  little  gesture  of  indifference  and  turned 
away,  but  Masterson  stepped  before  him. 

"You  will  learn  there  is  enough  cleverness  here  to  com 
prehend  why  you  came  to  this  plantation  a  willing  prisoner," 
he  said,  threateningly.  Monroe  resumed  his  "Rally  Once 
Again,"  and  raised  his  brows  inquiringly,  "and  also  why  you 
ignored  a  former  acquaintance  with  Madame  Caron  and 
had  to  be  introduced.  Before  you  are  through  with  this 
business,  Captain  Monroe,  you'll  whistle  a  different  tune." 

"Oh,  no,  I  shan't;  I  don't  know  any  other,"  said  Monroe, 
amiably,  and  sauntered  away  as  some  of  the  guests,  with  gay 
good  nights,  came  down  the  steps.  The  evening,  delightful 


332  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

as  it  had  been,  fraught  with  emotion  as  it  had  been,  was 
passing.  The  late  hour  reminded  Monroe  that  he  must  no 
longer  delay  seeing  Pluto  if  he  was  to  see  him  at  all.  They 
had  exchanged  glances  several  times,  but  the  black  man's 
duties  had  kept  him  occupied  every  minute,  and  they  had 
found  no  opportunity  to  speak  unobserved. 

Judithe  stood  beside  Mrs.  McVeigh  on  the  veranda  ex 
changing  good  nights  with  some  of  the  people,  who  expected 
to  be  her  neighbors  in  the  near  future,  and  who  were  de 
lighted  with  the  prospect.  She  had  been  a  decided  success 
with  the  warm-hearted  Southerners,  and  had  entered  the 
rooms  a  short  time  after  her  interview  with  her  host,  so  gay, 
so  bright,  that  he  could  scarcely  believe  those  brilliant  eyes 
were  the  ones  he  had  seen  tear-wet  in  the  dusk.  She  had  not 
avoided  him,  but  she  had  made  a  tete-a-tete  impossible ;  for 
all  that  he  could  only  remember  the  moment  when  she  had 
leaned  upon  his  breast  and  confessed  that  the  love  was  not 
all  on  his  side ;  no  after  attempt  at  indifference  could  erase 
an  iota  of  that ! 

Monroe  stopped  to  look  at  her,  himself  unseen,  and  as  she 
stood  there  smiling,  gracious,  the  very  star  of  the  evening, 
he  thought  he  had  never  before  seen  her  so  absolutely 
sparkling.  He  had  always  known  her  beautiful ;  tonight  she 
was  regal  beyond  comparison.  Always  in  the  years  to  fol 
low  he  thought  of  her  as  she  stood  there  that  night,  radiant, 
dominant,  at  the  very  pinnacle  of  success  in  all  things.  He 
never  again  saw  her  like  that. 

As  he  passed  on  he  relit  the  cigar,  forgotten  during  his 
meeting  with  Masterson,  and  Pluto,  who  had  been  on  net 
tles  of  anxiety  to  get  away  from  his  duties  all  the  evening, 
seized  the  opportunity  when  no  one  was  looking,  and  fol 
lowed  closely  the  light  of  the  cigar  as  it  moved  along  the 
hedge  past  the  dining  room  windows. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  333 

He  carried  the  treasured  bag  holding  the  dead  Rosa's 
belongings. 

"Couldn't  get  away  a  mite  sooner,  not  to  save  me,  Mahsa 
Captain,"  he  said,  breathlessly ;  "had  to  run  now  to  get  'way 
from  them  niggahs  in  the  kitchen,  who  wanted  to  know 
what  I  was  toten.  I  had  this  here  hid  in  the  pantry  whah 
I  had  no  chance  to  look  through  it,  so  if  you'll  s'cuse  me  I 
jest  gwine  dump  em  out  right  heah;  the  picture  case,  it's 
plum  down  in  the  bottom ;  I  felt  it." 

Monroe  smoked  in  silence  while  the  darky  was  making 
the  search.  He  no  longer  needed  the  picture  in  order  to 
convince  Madame  Caron  of  the  truth  of  Pluto's  story,  yet 
concluded  it  best  that  she  have  possession  of  so  compro 
mising  a  portrait  until  her  clever  maid  was  out  of  the 
country. 

He  could  hear  Colonel  McVeigh  asking  for  Pluto,  and 
Caroline  offering  information  that  "Pluto  jest  gone  out 
throught  the  pantry." 

"You'd  better  hurry,  my  man,"  suggested  Monroe, 
"they'll  be  looking  for  you." 

"They  will  that — folks  all  gwine  home,  an'  need  a  sight 
o'  waiten'  on ;  thah's  the  likeness,  Mahs  Captain ;"  he  handed 
him  a  small  oval  frame,  commenced  crowding  the  other  arti 
cles  hurriedly  back  into  the  bag ;  "fo'  God's  sake,  be  careful 
o'  that;  I  don'  want  it  to  fetch  harm  to  that  gal,  but  I 
don'  allow  neither  fo'  Madame  Caron  to  be  made  trouble  if 
I  can  help  it." 

"You're  a  faithful  fellow ;  there's  a  coin  in  exchange  for 
the  picture ;  you'd  better  go.  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning." 

Pluto  was  profuse  in  his  thanks,  while  Monroe  hunted  for 
a  match  with  which  to  view  the  picture. 

He  struck  a  light  and  opened  the  little  closed  frame  as 
Pluto  started  for  the  side  door.  An  instant  later  he  snapped 

22 


334  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

it  shut  again,  and  as  the  darky  reached  the  steps  Monroe's 
hand  was  on  his  shoulder: 

"Wait  a  bit,"  he  said,  briefly.  "You  say  that  is  the  pic 
ture  of  Rhoda's  mother?  Now  tell  me  again  what  her 
name  is." 

"Who? — Margeret?  Why,  her  name  Margeret  Loring, 
I  reckon,  but  Nelse  did  say  her  right  name  was  'Caris — 
Lacaris.  Retta  Lacaris  what  she  called  when  she  jest  a 
young  gal  an'  Mahs  Tom  Loring  fust  bought  her." 

Monroe  repeated  the  name  in  order  to  impress  it  on  his 
memory.  He  took  a  pencil  and  note  book  out  of  his  pocket. 

Pluto  half  offered  his  hand  for  the  little  oval  frame,  for 
there  was  enough  light  where  they  stood  to  see  it  by,  but 
Monroe  slipped  it  with  the  note  book  into  an  inner  pocket. 
"The  Colonel  will  want  you;  you  had  better  go," 
he  said,  turning  away,  and  walking  directly  from  the 
house  he  crossed  the  lawn  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of 
the  departing  guests.  All  the  gay  chatter  jarred  on  him, 
oppressed  as  he  was  with  the  certainty  of  some  unknown 
calamity  overhanging  those  laughing  people  on  the  veranda. 
What  it  was  he  did  not  know,  but  he  would  leave  in  the 
morning. 

He  had  been  gone  an  hour.  He  was  missed,  but  no  one 
except  Masterson  took  any  special  notice  of  it,  and  he  was 
wary  about  asking  questions,  remembering  Colonel  Mc 
Veigh's  attitude  in  the  morning  over  the  disputed  question. 
But  as  he  was  enjoying  a  final  cigar  with  Judge  Clarkson 
on  the  lawn — the  Judge  was  the  very  last  to  leave  and  was 
waiting  for  his  horse — all  his  suspicions  were  revived  with 
added  strength  as  McVeigh  strode  hurriedly  across  the 
veranda  towards  them. 

"Phil,  I  was  looking  for  you,"  and  his  tone  betrayed  un- 
nsual  anxiety  reflected  in  his  face  as  he  glanced  around  to 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  335 

see  if  there  were  possible  listeners.  But  the  rooms  on  the 
first  floor  were  deserted — all  dark  but  for  a  solitary  light  in 
the  hall.  In  the  upper  rooms  little  gleams  stole  out  from  the 
sleeping  rooms  where  the  ladies  had  retired  for  the  night. 

''Anything  wrong,  Colonel?"  asked  Masterson,  speaking 
in  a  suppressed  tone  and  meeting  him  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps. 

"Who  is  that  with  you,  the  Judge?"  asked  McVeigh 
first.  "Good!  I'm  glad  you  are  here.  Something  astound 
ing  has  occurred,  gentlemen.  The  papers,  the  instructions 
you  brought  today,  together  with  some  other  documents  of 
importance,  have  been  stolen  from  my  room  tonight !" 

"Ah-h !"  Masterson's  voice  was  scarcely  above  a  whisper. 
All  his  suspicions  blazed  again.  Now  he  understood  Mon 
roe's  presence  there. 

"But,  my  dear  boy,"  gasped  the  Judge,  thunderstruck  at 
the  news,  "your  commission  stolen  ?  Why,  how — " 

"The  commission  is  the  least  important  part  of  it,"  an 
swered  McVeigh  hopelessly.  He  was  pacing  back  and  forth 
in  decided  agitation.  "The  commission  was  forwarded  me 
with  instructions  to  take  charge  of  the  entire  division  during 
the  temporary  absence  of  the  Major-General  commanding." 

"And  you  have  lost  those  instructions?"  demanded  Mas 
terson,  who  realized  the  serious  consequences  impending. 

"Yes,"  and  McVeigh  halted  in  his  nervous  walk,  "I  have 
lost  those  instructions.  I  have  lost  the  entire  plan  of  move 
ment  !  It  has  been  stolen  from  my  room — is  perhaps  now 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  I  ignorant  of  the  contents ! 
I  had  only  glanced  at  them  and  meant  to  go  over  them  thor 
oughly  tonight.  They  are  gone,  and  it  means  failure  court- 
martial,  disgrace !" 

He  had  dropped  hopelessly  on  the  lower  step,  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands;  the  contrast  to  the  joy,  the  absolute 


336  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

happiness  of  an  hour  ago  was  overwhelming.  Masterson 
stood  looking  at  him,  thinking  fast,  and  wondering  how 
much  he  dared  express. 

"When  did  you  discover  the  loss,  Colonel?" 

"Just  now,"  he  answered,  rising  and  commencing  again 
the  nervous  pacing.  "I  had  gone  to  my  room  with  Dr. 
Delaven  to  find  an  old  uniform  of  mine  he  had  asked  to 
borrow.  Then  I  found  the  drawer  of  my  desk  open  and  my 
papers  gone.  I  said  nothing  to  him  of  the  loss.  Any  search 
to  be  made  must  be  conducted  without  publicity." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  agreed  Judge  Clarkson,  "but  a 
search,  Kenneth,  my  boy?  Where  could  we  begin?" 

McVeigh  shook  his  head,  but  Masterson  remembered  that 
Delaven  was  also  an  outsider —  and  Delaven  had  borrowed 
a  Confederate  uniform ! 

"Colonel,"  he  asked,  with  a  significance  he  tried  ineffec 
tually  to  subdue,  for  all  subterfuge  was  difficult  to  his 
straightforward  nature,  "may  I  ask  for  what  purpose  that 
uniform  was  borrowed?" 

The  tone  was  unmistakable.    McVeigh  turned  as  if  struck. 

"Captain  Masterson !" 

"Colonel,  this  is  no  time  to  stand  on  ceremony.  Some 
one  who  was  your  guest  tonight  evidently  stole  those  papers ! 
Most  of  the  guests  were  old,  tried  friends,  but  there  were 
exceptions.  Two  are  foreigners,  and  one  belongs  to  the 
enemy.  It  is  most  natural  that  the  exceptions  be  considered 
first."  Clarkson  nodded  assent  to  this  very  logical  deduc 
tion  and  Masterson  felt  assured  of  his  support.  "The  bor 
rowing  of  the  uniform  in  itself  is  significant,  but  at  this  time 
is  especially  so." 

"No,  no,  no !"  and  his  superior  officer  waved  aside  the 
question  impatiently.  "Dr.  Delaven  is  above  suspicion ;  he 
is  about  to  offer  his  services  as  surgeon  to  our  cause — talked 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  337 

to  me  of  it  tonight.  The  uniform  was  for  some  jest  with 
my  sister.  It  has  nothing  whatever  fo  do  with  this." 

"What  became  of  the  man  you  suspected  as  a  spy  this 
morning?"  asked  the  Judge,  and  McVeigh  also  looked  at 
Masterson  for  reply. 

"No,  it  was  not  he,"  said  the  latter,  decidedly.  "He  was 
watched  every  minute  of  his  stay  here,  and  his  stay  was 
very  brief.  But  Colonel  McVeigh — Kenneth;  even  at  the 
risk  of  your  displeasure  I  must  remind  you  that  Dr.  Delaven 
is  not  the  only  guest  here  who  is  either  neutral  or  pledged 
to  the  cause  of  our  enemies — I  mean  Captain  Jack  Monroe." 

"Impossible!"  said  McVeigh;  but  Masterson  shook  his 
head. 

"If  the  name  of  every  guest  here  tonight  were  mentioned 
you  would  feel  justified  in  saying  the  same  thing — impossi 
ble,  yet  it  has  been  possible,  since  the  papers  are  gone.  Who 
but  the  Federals  would  want  them?  Captain  Monroe  of 
the  Federal  army  allowed  himself  to  be  taken  prisoner  this 
morning  and  brought  to  your  home,  though  he  had  a  parole 
in  his  pocket!  The  careless  reason  he  gave  for  it  did  not 
satisfy  me,  and  now  even  you  must  agree  that  it  looks  sus 
picious." 

McVeigh  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  in  perplexity.  He 
felt  that  the  Judge  agreed  with  Masterson ;  he  was  oppressed 
by  the  memory  of  the  accusation  against  the  sailor  that 
morning.  Spies  and  traitors  at  McVeigh  Terrace !  He  had 
placed  his  orderly  on  guard  in  the  room  so  soon  as  he  dis 
covered  the  rifled  drawer,  and  had  at  once  come  to  Master- 
son  for  consultation,  but  once  there  no  solution  of  the  prob 
lem  suggested  itself.  There  seemed  literally  no  starting 
point  for  investigation.  The  crowd  of  people  there  had  made 
the  difficulty  greater,  for  servants  of  the  guests  had  also 
been  there — drivers  and  boatmen.  Yet  who  among  them 


338  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

could  have  access  to  the  rooms  of  the  family?    He  shook 
his  head  at  Masterson's  suggestion. 

"Your  suspicions  against  Captain  Monroe  are  without 
foundation,"  he  said  decidedly.  "The  papers  had  not  yet 
reached  me  when  he  arrived.  He  had  no  knowledge  of  their 
existence." 

"How  do  we  know  that?"  demanded  Masterson.  "Do 
you  forget  that  he  was  present  when  I  gave  you  the 
papers  ?" 

McVeigh  stopped  short  and  stared  at  him.  By  the  thin 
edge  of  the  wedge  of  suspicion  a  door  seemed  forced  back 
and  a  flood  of  revelations  forced  in. 

"By  Jove !"  he  said,  slowly,  "and  he  heard  me  speak  of  the 
importance  of  my  instructions !" 

"Where  is  he  now?"  asked  the  Judge.  "I  have  not  seen 
him  for  an  hour ;  but  there  seems  only  one  thing  to  be  done." 

"Certainly,"  agreed  Masterson,  delighted  that  McVeigh 
at  last  began  to  look  with  reason  on  his  own  convictions. 
"He  should  be  arrested  at  once." 

"We  must  not  be  hasty  in  this  matter,  it  is  so  important," 
said  McVeigh.  "Phil,  I  will  ask  you  to  see  that  a  couple  of 
horses  are  saddled.  Have  your  men  do  it  without  arousing 
the  servants'  suspicions.  I  am  going  to  my  room  for  a  more 
thorough  investigation.  Come  with  me,  Judge,  if  you 
please.  I  am  glad  you  remained.  I  don't  want  any  of  the 
others  to  know  what  occurred.  I  can't  believe  it  of  Monroe 
—yet." 

"Kenneth,  my  boy,  I  don't  like  to  crush  any  lingering 
faith  you  have  in  your  Northern  friend,"  said  Clarkson,  lay 
ing  his  hand  affectionately  on  McVeigh's  arm  as  they 
reached  the  steps,  "but  from  the  evidence  before  us  I — I'm 
afraid  he's  gone !  He'll  never  come  back !" 

At  that  moment  a  low,  lazy  sort  of  whistle  sounded  across 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  339 

the  lawn,  so  low  and  so  slow  that  it  was  apparently  an  un 
conscious  accompaniment  to  reverie  or  speculation.  It  was 
quite  dark  except  where  the  light  shone  from  the  hall.  All 
the  gaudy  paper  lanterns  had  been  extinguished,  and  when 
the  confidential  notes  of  "Rally  'round  the  flag,  boys,"  came 
closer,  and  the  whistler  emerged  from  the  deeper  shadows, 
he  could  only  distinguish  two  figures  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  and  they  could  only  locate  him  by  the  glow  of  his 
cigar  in  the  darkness. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause  and  then  the  whistler  said, 
"Hello !  Friends  or  foes  ?" 

"Captain  Jack !"  said  McVeigh,  with  a  note  of  relief  in  his 
voice,  very  perceptible  to  the  Judge,  who  felt  a  mingling  of 
delight  and  surprise  at  his  failure  as  a  prophet. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Colonel  ?"  and  Monroe  came  leisurely 
forward.  "I  fancied  every  one  but  myself  had  gone  to  bed 
when  I  saw  the  lights  out.  I  walked  away  across  your  fields, 
smoking." 

The  others  did  not  speak.  They  could  not  at  once  throw 
aside  the  constraint  imposed  by  the  situation.  He  felt  it  as 
he  neared  the  steps,  but  remarked  carelessly : 

"Cloudy,  isn't  it?  I  am  not  much  of  a  weather  prophet, 
but  feel  as  if  there  is  a  storm  in  the  air." 

"Yes,"  agreed  McVeigh,  with  an  abstracted  manner.  He 
was  not  thinking  of  the  probable  storm,  but  of  what  action 
he  had  best  take  in  the  matter,  whether  to  have  the  suspected 
man  secretly  watched,  or  to  make  a  plain  statement  of  the 
case,  and  show  that  the  circumstantial  evidence  against  him 
was  too  decided  to  be  ignored. 

"Well,  Colonel,  you've  helped  me  to  a  delightful  evening," 
continued  the  unsuspecting  suspect.  "I  shall  carry  away 
most  pleasant  memories  of  your  plantation  hospitality,  and 
have  concluded  to  start  with  them  in  the  morning."  There 


340  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

was  a  slight  pause,  then  he  added :  "Sorry  I  can't  stay  an 
other  day,  but  I've  been  thinking  it  over,  and  it  seems  nec 
essary  for  me  to  move  on  to  the  coast." 

"Not  going  to  run  from  the  enemy?"  asked  Clarkson, 
with  a  doubtful  attempt  at  lightness. 

"Not  necessary,  Judge ;  so  I  shall  retreat  in  good  order." 
He  ascended  the  steps,  yawning  slightly.  "You  two  going 
to  stay  up  all  night  ?" 

"No,"  said  McVeigh,  "I've  just  been  persuading  Judge 
Clarkson  to  remain ;  we'll  be  in  presently." 

"Well,  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning,  gentlemen.  Good 
night." 

They  exchanged  good  nights,  and  he  entered  the  house, 
still  with  that  soft  whisper  of  a  whistle  as  accompaniment. 
It  grew  softer  as  he  entered  the  house,  and  the  two  stood 
there  until  the  last  sound  had  died  away. 

"Going  in  the  morning,  Kenneth,"  said  the  Judge,  mean 
ingly.  "Now,  what  do  you  think  ?" 

"That  Masterson  is  right,"  answered  McVeigh.  "He  is 
the  last  man  I  should  have  suspected,  but  there  seems 
nothing  to  do  except  make  the  arrest  at  once,  or  put  him 
secretly  under  surveillance  without  his  knowledge.  I  in 
cline  to  the  latter,  but  will  consult  with  Masterson.  Come 
in." 

They  entered  the  hall,  where  McVeigh  shut  the  door  and 
turned  the  light  low  as  they  passed  through.  Pluto  was 
nodding  half  asleep  in  the  back  hall,  and  his  master  told 
him  to  go  to  bed,  he  would  not  be  needed.  Though  he  had 
formed  no  definite  plan  of  action  he  felt  that  the  servants 
had  best  be  kept  ignorant  of  all  movements  for  the  present. 
Somebody's  servants  might  have  helped  with  that  theft, 
why  not  his  own  ? 

In  the  upper  hall  he  passed  Margeret,  who  was  entering 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  341 

the  room  of  Miss  Loring  with  a  pitcher  of  water.  The  hall 
was  dark  as  they  passed  the  corridor  leading  to  the  rooms 
of  Madame  Caron,  Evilena,  Miss  Loring  and  Captain  Mon 
roe.  Light  showed  above  the  doors  of  Miss  Loring  and 
Monroe.  The  other  rooms  were  already  dark. 

The  two  men  paused  long  enough  to  note  those  details, 
then  McVeigh  walked  to  the  end  of  the  corridor  and  bolted 
the  door  to  the  balcony.  Monroe  was  still  softly  whistling 
at  intervals.  He  would  cease  occasionally  and  then,  after  a 
few  moments,  would  commence  again  where  he  had  left  off. 
He  was  evidently  very  busy  or  very  much  preoccupied.  To 
leave  his  room  and  descend  the  stairs  he  would  have  to  pass 
McVeigh's  room,  which  was  on  the  first  landing.  The  or 
derly  was  on  guard  there,  within.  McVeigh  sent  him  with 
a  message  to  Masterson,  who  was  in  the  rear  of  the  building. 
The  man  passed  out  along  the  back  corridor  and  the  other 
two  entered  the  room,  but  left  the  door  ajar. 

In  the  meantime  a  man  who  had  been  watching  Monroe's 
movements  in  the  park  for  some  time  now  crept  closer  to 
the  house.  He  watched  him  enter  the  house  and  the  other 
two  follow.  He  could  not  hear  what  they  said,  but  the 
closing  of  the  door  told  him  the  house  was  closed  for  the 
night.  The  wind  was  rising  and  low  clouds  were  scurrying 
past.  Now  and  then  the  stars  were  allowed  to  peep  through, 
showing  a  faint  light,  and  any  one  close  to  him  would  have 
seen  that  he  wore  a  Confederate  uniform  and  that  his  gaze 
was  concentrated  on  the  upper  balcony.  At  last  he  fancied 
he  could  distinguish  a  white  figure  against  the  glass  door 
opening  from  the  corridor.  Assuring  himself  of  the  fact 
he  stepped  forward  into  the  open  and  was  about  to  cross  the 
little  space  before  the  house  when  he  was  conscious  of  an 
other  figure,  also  in  gray  uniform,  and  the  unmistakable 


342  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

cavalry  hat,  coming  stealthily  from  the  other  side  of  the 
house. 

The  second  figure  also  glanced  upwards  at  the  balcony, 
but  was  too  close  to  perceive  the  slender  form  above  moving 
against  one  of  the  vine-covered  pillars  when  the  figure 
draped  in  white  bent  over  as  though  trying  to  decipher  the 
features  under  the  big  hat,  and  just  as  the  second  comer 
made  a  smothered  attempt  to  clear  his  throat,  something 
white  fell  at  his  feet. 

"Sweet  Evilena!"  he  said,  picking  it  up.  "Faith,  the 
mother  has  told  her  and  the  darling  was  waiting  for  me. 
Delaven's  private  post  office !"  He  laid  down  the  guitar 
and  fumbled  for  a  match,  when  the  watcher  from  the  shad 
ows  leaped  upon  him  from  behind,  throttling  him  that  no 
sound  be  made,  and  while  he  pinned  him  to  the  ground  with 
his  knee,  kept  one  hand  on  his  throat  and  with  the  other 
tried  to  loosen  the  grasp  of  Delaven's  hand  on  the  papers. 

"Give  me  that  paper !"  he  whispered  fiercely.  "Give  it  to 
me  or  I'll  kill  you  where  you  lay !  Give  it  to  me !" 

In  the  struggle  Delaven  struck  the  guitar  with  the  heel 
of  his  boot,  there  was  a  crash  of  resonant  wood,  and  a  wail 
of  the  strings,  and  it  reached  the  ears  of  Masterson  and  the 
orderly,  who  were  about  to  enter  the  side  door  from  the 
arbor. 

Masterson  halted  to  listen  whence  the  crash  came,  but 
the  orderly's  ears  were  more  accurate  and  he  dashed  to 
wards  the  corner. 

"Captain,"  he  called  in  a  loud  whisper,  as  he  saw  the 
struggling  figures,  and  at  the  call  and  the  sound  of  quick 
steps  Pierson  leaped  to  his  feet  and  ran  for  the  shrubbery. 

"Halt!"  called  Masterson,  and  fired  one  shot  from  his  re 
volver.  The  fugitive  leaped  to  one  side  as  the  order  rang 
out  and  the  bullet  went  whistling  past.  He  had  cleared  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  343 

open  space  and  was  in  the  shrubbery.  The  orderly  dashed 
after  him  as  Masterson  caught  Delaven,  who  was  scrambling 
to  his  feet,  feeling  his  throat  and  trying  to  take  a  full  breath. 

"Who  are  you?"  demanded  Masterson,  shaking  him  a 
trifle  to  hasten  the  smoothered  speech.  "Doctor  Delaven! 
You !  Who  was  that  man  ?" 

"It's  little  I  can  tell  you,"  gasped  the  other,  "except  that 
he's  some  murderous  rival  who  wanted  to  make  an  angel 
of  me.  Man,  but  he  has  a  grip  !" 

Margeret  suddenly  appeared  on  the  veranda  with  a  lamp 
held  high  above  her  head,  as  she  peered  downward  in  the 
darkness,  and  by  its  light  Masterson  scanned  the  appear 
ance  of  Delaven  with  a  doubtful  eye. 

"Why  did  the  man  assault  you  ?"  he  demanded,  and  Dela 
ven  showed  the  long  envelope. 

"He  was  trying  to  rob  me  of  a  letter  let  fall  from  the 
balcony  above,  bad  luck  to  him  !" 

At  that  moment  the  orderly  came  running  back  to  say 
that  the  man  had  got  away ;  a  horse  had  been  tied  over  in 
the  pines,  they  could  hear  the  beat  of  its  hoofs  now  on  the 
big  road. 

"Get  a  horse  and  follow  him,"  ordered  Masterson  briefly, 
as  McVeigh  and  Clarkson  came  down  the  stairs  and  past 
Margeret.  "Arrest  him,  shoot  him,  fetch  him  back  some 
way!"  Then  he  turned  again  to  the  would-be  cavalier  of 
romance,  who  was  surveying  the  guitar  disconsolately. 

"Doctor  Delaven,  what  are  you  doing  in  that  uniform?" 

"I  was  about  to  give  a  concert,"  returned  that  individual, 
who  made  a  grotesque  figure  in  the  borrowed  suit,  a  world 
too  large  for  him. 

McVeigh  laughed  as  he  heard  the  reply  and  surveyed  the 
speaker.  Masterson's  persistent  search  for  spies  had  evi 
dently  spoiled  Delaven's  serenade. 


244  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

Mrs.  McVeigh  opened  a  window  and  asked  what  the 
trouble  was,  and  Masterson  assured  her  it  was  only  an  ac 
cident — his  revolver  had  gone  off,  but  no  one  was  hurt,  on 
which  assurance  she  said  good  night  and  closed  the  window, 
while  the  group  stood  looking  at  each  other  questioningly. 
Masterson's  manner  showed  that  it  was  something  more 
than  an  accident. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  asked  McVeigh  in  a 
guarded  tone;  and  Masterson  pointed  to  the  package  in 
Delaven's  hand. 

"I  think  we've  found  it,  Colonel,"  he  said,  excitedly. 
"Doctor  Delaven,  what  is  in  that  envelope  ?" 

"Faith,  I  don't  know,  Captain.  The  fellow  didn't  give  me 
time  to  read  it." 

"Give  it  to  me." 

"No,  I'll  not,"  returned  Delaven,  moving  towards  the 
light. 

"And  why  not  ?"  demanded  Masterson,  suspiciously. 

"Because  it's  from  a  lady,  and  it's  private." 

He  held  the  envelope  to  the  light,  but  there  was  no  name 
or  address  on  it.  He  tore  off  the  end  and  in  extracting  the 
contents  two  papers  slipped  out  and  fell  on  the  ground.  Mas 
terson  picked  them  up  and  after  a  glance  waved  them  tri 
umphantly,  while  Delaven  looked  puzzled  over  the  slip  in 
his  hands.  It  was  only  something  about  military  matters, 
— the  furthest  thing  possible  from  a  billet-doux. 

"I  thought  myself  it  was  the  weightiest  one  ever  launched 
by  Cupid,"  he  remarked  as  he  shook  his  head  over  the  mys 
tery.  But  Masterson  thrust  the  papers  into  McVeigh's 
hands. 

"Your  commission  and  instructions,  Colonel !"  he  said, 
jubilantly.  "What  a  run  of  luck.  See  if  they  are  all  right." 

"Every  one  of  them,"  and  in  a  moment  the  Judge  and 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  345 

Masterson  were  shaking  hands  with  him,  while  Delaven 
stood  apart  and  stared.  He  was  glad  they  were  having  so 
much  joy  to  themselves,  but  could  not  see  why  he  should  be 
choked  to  obtain  it  for  them. 

"Understand  one  thing,"  said  Masterson,  when  the  con 
gratulations  were  over ;  "those  papers  were  thrown  from 
that  balcony  to  Dr.  Delaven  by  mistake.  The  man  they 
were  meant  for  tried  to  strangle  the  doctor  and  has  escaped, 
but  the  man  who  escaped,  Colonel,  was  evidently  only  a 
messenger,  and  the  real  culprit,  the  traitor,  is  in  your  house 
now,  and  reached  the  balcony  through  that  corridor  door !" 

The  wind  blew  Margeret's  lamp  out,  leaving  them,  for  an 
instant,  in  darkness,  but  she  entered  the  hall,  turned  up  the 
light  there  so  that  it  shone  across  the  veranda  and  down  the 
steps ;  then  she  lit  the  lamp  in  the  library  and  went  softly  up 
the  stairs  and  out  of  sight. 

"Come  into  the  library,"  suggested  McVeigh.  "You  are 
right,  Phil,  there  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done  in  the  face  of 
such  evidence  By  Jove !  It  seems  incredible.  I  would 
have  fought  for  Jack  Monroe,  sworn  by  him,  and  after  all — " 

A  leisurely  step  sounded  on  the  stairs  and  Monroe  de 
scended.  He  wore  no  coat  or  vest  and  was  evidently  pre 
pared  for  bed  when  disturbed. 

"What's  all  the  row  about  ?"  he  asked,  yawning.  "Oh,  are 
you  in  it,  Colonel  ?" 

There  was  a  slight  pause  before  McVeigh  said : 

"Captain  Monroe,  the  row  is  over  for  the  present,  since 
your  confederate  has  escaped." 

"My — confederate  ?" 

He  glanced  in  inquiry  from  one  to  the  other,  but  could 
see  no  friendliness  in  their  faces.  Delaven  looked  as  puzzled 
as  himself,  but  the  other  three  regarded  him  coldly.  He 


346  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

tossed  his  half  finished  cigar  out  of  the  door,  and  seemed  to 
grow  taller,  as  he  turned  toward  them  again. 

"May  I  ask  in  what  way  I  am  linked  with  a  confederacy." 

"In  using  your  parole  to  gain  knowledge  of  our  army  for 
the  use  of  the  Federal  government,"  answered  McVeigh, 
bluntly. 

Monroe  made  a  step  forward,  but  halted,  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  thrust  his  uninjured  hand  into  his  pocket,  as  if 
to  hamper  its  aggressive  tendencies. 

"Is  it  considered  a  part  of  Southern  hospitality  that  the 
host  reserves  the  right  to  insult  his  guests?"  he  asked 
slowly.  Masterson's  face  flushed  with  anger  at  the  sweeping 
suggestion,  but  McVeigh  glanced  at  him  warningly. 

"This  is  not  a  time  for  useless  words,  Captain  Monroe, 
and  it  seems  useless  to  discuss  the  rights  of  the  hospitality 
you  have  outraged." 

"That  is  not  true,  Colonel  McVeigh,"  and  his  tones  were 
very  steady  as  he  made  the  denial.  His  very  steadiness  and 
cool  selfcontrol  angered  McVeigh,  who  had  hoped  to  see 
him  astonished,  indignant,  natural. 

"Not  true  ?"  he  demanded.  "Is  it  not  true  that  you  were 
received  here  as  a  friend,  welcomed  as  a  brother?  That 
you  listened  this  morning  when  those  military  dispatches 
reached  me  ?  That  you  heard  me  say  they  were  very  import 
ant  ?  That  as  soon  as  they  were  stolen  from  my  room  tonight 
you  announced  that  you  could  not  prolong  your  stay,  your 
object  in  coming  having  evidently  been  accomplished?  Is 
it  not  true  that  today  you  managed  to  divert  suspicion  from 
yourself  to  an  innocent  lady  ?  The  authorities  were  evidently 
right  who  had  that  sailor  followed  here;  but  unknown  to 
her  it  was  not  his  employer  he  came  here  to  meet,  but  you, 
his  confederate!  He  was  only  the  messenger,  while  you 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  347 

were  the  real  spy — the  officer  who  has  broken  his  parole  of 
honor." 

Monroe  had  listened  with  set  teeth  to  the  accusation,  a 
certain  doggedness  in  his  expression  as  the  list  of  his  delin 
quencies  were  reviewed,  but  at  the  final  sentence  the 
clenched  hand  shot  forward  and  he  struck  McVeigh  a 
wicked  blow,  staggering  him  back  against  the  wall. 

"You  are  a  liar  and  a  fool,  Colonel  McVeigh,"  he  said 
in  a  choked  voice,  his  face  white  with  anger. 

The  Judge  and  Masterson  interposed  as  McVeigh  lunged 
forward  at  him,  and  then  he  controlled  his  voice  enough  to 
say,  "Captain  Monroe,  you  are  under  arrest." 

And  the  commotion  and  deep  breathing  of  the  men  pre 
vented  them  hearing  the  soft  rustle  of  a  woman's  dress  in 
the  hall  as  Judithe  slipped  away  into  the  darkness  of  the  sit 
ting  room,  and  thence  up  the  back  stairs. 

She  had  followed*  Monroe  as  he  passed  her  door.  She 
heard  all  their  words,  and  the  final  ones :  "Captain  Monroe, 
you  are  under  arrest !"  rang  in  her  ears  all  night  as  she  tossed 
sleepless  in  the  darkness.  That  is  what  Kenneth  McVeigh 
would  say  to  her  if  he  knew  thfe  truth.  Well,  he  should 
know  it.  Captain  Monroe  was  sacrificing  himself  for  her. 
How  she  admired  him !  Did  he  fancy  she  would  allow  it  ? 
Yet  that  shot  alarmed  her.  She  heard  them  say  Pierson  had 
escaped,  but  had  he  retained  the  papers?  If  she  was  quite 
sure  of  that  she  would  announce  the  truth  at  once  and  clear 
him.  But  the  morning  was  so  near.  She  must  wait  a  few 
hours  longer,  and  then — then  Kenneth  McVeigh  would  say 
to  her,  "You  are  under  arrest,"  and  after  all  her  success  would 
come  defeat. 

She  had  never  yet  met  defeat,  and  it  was  not  pleasant  to 
contemplate.  She  remembered  his  words  of  love — the  ador 
ation  in  his  eye ;  would  that  love  protect  her  when  he  learned 


348  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

she  was  the  traitor  to  his  home  and  country?  She  smiled 
bitterly  at  the  thought,  and  felt  that  she  could  see  clearly 
how  that  would  end.  He  would  be  patriot  first  and  lover 
after,  unless  it  was  some  one  of  his  own  family — some  one 
whose  honor  meant  his  honor — some  one — 

Then  in  the  darkness  she  laughed  at  a  sudden 
remembrance,  and  rising  from  the  couch  paced  feverishly 
the  length  of  the  room  many  times,  and  stood  gazing  out 
at  the  stars  swept  by  fleecy  clouds. 

Out  there  on  the  lawn  he  had  vowed  his  love  for  her, 
asked  her  to  marry  him — marry  him  at  once,  before  he 
left  to  join  his  brigade.  She  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of 
doing  it  then;  but  now,  why  not?  It  could  be  entirely 
secret — so  he  had  said.  It  would  merely  be  a  betrothal  with 
witnesses,  and  it  would  make  her  so  much  a  part  of  the 
McVeigh  family  that  he  must  let  Captain  Jack  go  on  her 
word.  And  before  the  dawn  broke  she  had  decided  her  plan 
of  action.  If  he  said,  "You  are  under  arrest"  to  her,  it  should 
be  to  his  own  wife! 

She  plunged  into  the  idea  with  the  reckless  daring  of  a 
gamester  who  throws  down  his  last  card  to  win  or  lose. 
It  had  to  be  played  any  way,  so  why  not  double  the  stakes  ? 
She  had  played  on  that  principle  in  some  of  the  most  fash 
ionable  gaming  places  of  Europe  in  search  of  cure  for  the 
ennui  she  complained  of  to  Captain  Jack ;  so  why  not  in  this 
more  vital  game  of  living  pawns  ? 

She  had  wept  in  the  dark  of  the  garden  when  his  lips  had 
touched  her ;  she  had  said,  wild,  impulsive  things ;  she  had 
been  a  fool ;  but  in  the  light  of  the  new  day  she  set  her 
teeth  and  determined  the  folly  was  over — only  one  day  re 
mained.  Military  justice — or  injustice — moved  swiftly,  and 
there  was  a  man's  life  to  be  saved. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  349 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  sun  was  just  peeping,  fiery  red  and  threatening,  above 
the  bank  of  clouds  to  the  east  when  Delaven  was  roused  from 
sweet  sleep  by  the  apparition  of  Colonel  McVeigh,  booted, 
spurred  and  ready  for  the  saddle. 

"I  want  you  to  come  riding  with  me,  and  to  come  quick," 
he  said,  with  a  face  singularly  bright  and  happy,  considering 
the  episode  of  the  night  before,  and  the  fact  that  his  former 
friend  was  now  a  prisoner  in  a  cottage  back  of  the  dwelling 
house,  guarded  by  the  orderlies. 

He  had  dispatched  a  courier  for  a  detachment  of  men  from 
one  of  the  fortifications  along  the  river.  He  would  send 
Monroe  in  their  charge  to  Charleston  with  a  full  statement 
of  the  case  before  he  left  to  join  his  brigade — and  ere  that 
time : — 

Close  to  his  heart  lay  the  little  note  Pluto  had  brought  him 
less  than  an  hour  before,  the  second  written  word  he  had 
ever  received  from  Judithe.  The  first  had  sent  him  away 
from  her — but  this ! 

So  Delaven  dressed  himself  quickly,  ate  the  impromptu 
breakfast  arranged  by  the  Colonel's  order,  and  joined  Ju 
dithe  at  the  steps  as  the  horses  were  brought  around. 

She  was  gracious  and  gay  as  usual,  and  replied  to  his  gal 
lant  remarks  with  her  usual  self-possession,  yet  he  fancied 
her  a  trifle  nervous,  as  was  to  be  expected,  and  that  she 
avoided  his  gaze,  looking  over  him,  past  him,  every  place 

23 


350  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

but  in  his  eyes,  at  which  he  did  not  wonder  especially.  Of 
all  the  women  he  had  known  she  was  the  last  to  associate 
with  a  hurried  clandestine  marriage.  Of  course  it  was  all 
explained  by  the  troublous  war  times,  and  the  few  brief 
hours,  and  above  all  by  the  love  he  had  always  fancied  those 
two  felt  for  each  other. 

They  had  a  five  mile  ride  to  the  country  home  of  a  dis 
abled  chaplain  who  had  belonged  to  McVeigh's  regiment — 
had  known  him  from  boyhood,  and  was  home  now  nursing 
a  shattered  arm,  and  was  too  well  used  to  these  hurried 
unions  of  war  times  to  wonder  much  at  the  Colonel's  re 
quest,  and  only  slightly  puzzled  at  the  added  one  of  secrecy. 

At  the  Terrace  no  one  was  surprised  at  the  early  ride  of 
the  three,  even  though  the  morning  was  not  a  bright  one. 
Madame  Caron  had  made  them  accustomed  to  those  jaunts 
in  the  dawn,  and  Mrs.  McVeigh  was  relieved  to  learn  that 
Kenneth  had  accompanied  her.  Shocked  as  she  was  to  hear 
of  Monroe's  arrest,  and  the  cause  of  it,  she  was  comforted 
somewhat  that  Kenneth  did  not  find  the  affair  serious 
enough  to  interfere  with  a  trifle  of  attention  to  her  guest. 

In  fact  the  Colonel  had  not,  in  the  note  hastily  scribbled  to 
his  mother,  given  her  anything  like  a  serious  account  of  the 
case.  Captain  Monroe  had  for  certain  military  reasons  been 
placed  under  guard  until  an  escort  could  arrive  and  accom 
pany  him  to  Charleston  for  some  special  investigations.  She 
was  not  to  be  disturbed  or  alarmed  because  of  it ;  only,  no 
one  was  to  be  allowed  to  see  or  speak  with  him  without  a 
special  permit.  He  would  explain  more  fully  on  his  return, 
and  only  left  the  note  to  explain  why  Captain  Monroe  would 
breakfast  alone. 

Matthew  Loring  also  breakfasted  alone.  He  was  m  a 
most  excitable  state  over  the  occurrence  of  the  night  be 
fore,  which  Judge  Clarkson  was  called  on  to  relate,  and  con- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  351 

cerning  which  he  made  all  the  reservations  possible,  all  of 
them  entirely  acceptable  to  his  listeners  with  the  exception 
of  Miss  Loring,  who  heard,  and  then  sent  for  Phil  Mas- 
terson. 

'  She  was  talking  with  him  on  the  lawn  when  the  three 
riders  returned,  and  when  Kenneth  McVeigh  bent  above 
Judithewith  some  laughing  words  as  he  led  her  up  the  steps, 
the  heart  of  his  girl-playmate  grew  sick  within  her.  She  had 
feared  and  dreaded  this  foreign  exquisite  from  the  first ;  now, 
she  knew  why. 

Evilena  was  also  watching  for  their  return  and  gave  Dela- 
ven  a  cool  little  nod  in  contrast  to  the  warm  greeting  given 
her  brother  and  Madame  Caron.  But  instead  of  being 
chilled  he  only  watched  his  opportunity  to  whisper : 

"I  wore  the  uniform  !" 

She  tossed  her  head  and  found  something  interesting  in 
the  view  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lawn.  He  waited  meek 
ly,  plucked  some  roses,  which  he  presented  in  silence  and 
she  regarded  with  scorn.  But  as  she  did  not  move  away 
more  than  two  feet  he  took  heart  of  grace  and  repeated : 

"I  wore  the  uniform  !" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  fine  scorn,  "wore  it  in  our  garden, 
where  you  were  safe !" 

"Arrah!  Was  I  now?"  he  asked  in  his  best  brogue. 
"Well,  it's  myself  thought  I  was  anything  but  safe  for  a  few 
minutes.  But  I  saved  the  papers,  and  your  brother  was 
good  enough  to  say  I'd  saved  his  honor." 

"You!" 

"Just  me,  and  no  other,"  he  affirmed.  "Didn't  I  hold  on 
to  those  instructions  while  that  Yankee  spy  was  trying  to 
send  me  to  — heaven  ?  And  if  that  was  not  helping  the  cause 
and  risking  my  life,  well  now,  what  would  you  call  it  ?" 

"Oh!"  gasped  Evilena,  delightedly,  "I  never  thought  of 


352  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

that.    Why,  you  were  a  real  hero  after  all.    I'm  so  glad,  I — " 

Then  realizing  that  her  exuberance  was  little  short  of  ca 
ressing,  and  that  she  actually  had  both  hands  on  his  arm, 
she  drew  back  and  added  demurely  that  she  would  always 
keep  those  roses,  and  she  would  like  to  keep  the  guitar,  too, 
just  as  it  was,  for  her  mamma  agreed  that  it  was  a  real  ro 
mance  of  a  serenade — the  serenade  that  was  not  sung. 

After  which,  he  assured  her,  the  serenades  under  her  win 
dow  should  not  always  be  silent  ones,  and  they  went  in 
search  of  the  broken  guitar. 

Judge  Clarkson  was  pacing  the  veranda  with  well  con 
cealed  impatience.  Colonel  McVeigh's  ride  had  interfered 
with  the  business  talk  he  had  planned.  Matthew  Loring  was 
decidedly  irritable  over  it,  and  he,  Clarkson,  was  the  one 
who,  with  Gertrude,  had  to  hear  the  complaints.  But  look 
ing  in  Kenneth's  happy  face  he  could  not  begrudge  him 
those  brief  morning  hours  at  Beauty's  side,  and  only  asked 
his  consideration  for  the  papers  at  the  earliest  convenient 
moment,  and  at  the  same  time  asked  if  the  cottage  was  really 
a  safe  place  for  so  important  a  prisoner  as  Monroe. 

"Perfectly  safe,"  decided  McVeigh,  "so  safe  that  there  is 
no  danger  of  escape ;  and  as  I  think  over  the  whole  affair  I 
doubt  if  on  trial  anything  in  this  world  can  save  him." 

"Well,  I  should  hate  to  take  his  chances  in  the  next,"  de 
clared  the  Judge ;  "it  seems  so  incredible  that  a  man  pos 
sessed  of  the  courage,  the  admirable  attributes  you  have  al 
ways  ascribed  to  him,  should  prove  so  unworthy — a  broken 
parole.  Why,  sir,  it  is — is  damnable,  sir,  damnable !" 

Colonel  McVeigh  agreed,  and  Clarkson  left  the  room 
without  perceiving  that  Madame  Caron  had  been  a  listener, 
but  she  came  in,  removing  her  gloves  and  looking  at  the 
tiny  band  of  gold  on  her  third  finger. 

"The  Judge  referred  to  Captain  Monroe,  did  he  not?" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  353 

she  asked,  glancing  up  at  him.  "Kenneth" — and  her  man 
ner  was  delightfully  appealing  as  she  spoke  his  name  in  a 
shy  little  whisper,  "Kenneth,  there  may  be  some  horrible 
mistake.  Your  friend — that  was — may  be  innocent." 

"Scarcely  a  chance  of  it,  sweetheart,"  and  he  removed 
her  other  glove  and  kissed  her  fingers,  glancing  around 
first,  to  see  that  no  one  was  in  sight. 

She  laughed  at  his  little  picture  of  nervousness,  but  re 
turned  to  the  subject. 

"But  if  it  were  so?"  she  persisted;  "surely  you  will  not 
cotmsel  haste  in  deciding  so  serious  a  matter?" 

"At  any  rate,  I  mean  to  put  aside  so  serious  a  subject  of 
conversation  on  our  wedding  morning,"  he  answered,  and 
she  smiled  back  at  him  as  she  said : 

"On  our  wedding  morning,  sir,  you  should  be  mercifully 
disposed  towards  all  men." 

"We  never  class  traitors  as  men,"  and  his  fine  face  grew 
stern  for  an  instant,  "they  are  vampires,  birds  of  prey.  A 
detail  has  been  sent  for  to  take  him  to  court-martial ;  there 
is  little  doubt  what  the  result  will  be,  and — " 

"Suppose,"  and  she  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  pretty 
appeal  in  her  eyes,  "that  your  wife,  sir,  should  ask  as  a 
first  favor  on  her  wedding  day  that  you  be  merciful,  as  the 
rules  of  war  allow  you  to  be,  to  this  poor  fellow  who  danced 
with  us  last  night?  Even  supposing  he  is  most  horribly 
wicked,  yet  he  really  did  dance  with  us — danced  very  well, 
and  was  very  amusing.  So,  why  not  grant  him  another  day 
of  grace  ?  No  ?"  as  he  shook  his  head.  "Well,  Monsieur, 
I  have  a  fancy  ill  luck  must  come  if  you  celebrate  our  wed 
ding  day  by  hastening  a  man  to  meet  his  death.  Let  him 
remain  here  under  guard  until  tomorrow?" 

He  shook  his  head,  smilingly. 

"No,  Judithe." 


354  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Not  even  for  me?" 

"Anything  else,  sweetheart,  but  not  that.  It  is  really  out 
of  my  power  to  delay,  now,  even  if  I  wished.  The  guard 
will  come  for  him  some  time  this  evening.  I,  myself,  shall 
leave  at  dawn  tomorrow ;  so,  you  see ! — " 

She  glanced  at  him  in  playful  reproach,  a  gay  irrespon 
sible  specimen  of  femininity,  who  would  ignore  a  man's 
treason  because  he  chanced  to  be  a  charming  partner  in 
the  dance. 

"My  very  first  request!  So,  Monsieur,  this  is  how  you 
mean  to  love,  honor  and  obey  me?" 

He  laughed  and  caught  the  uplifted  forefinger  with  which 
she  admonished  him. 

"I  shall  be  madly  jealous  in  another  minute,"  he  de 
clared,  with  mock  ferocity ;  "you  have  been  my  wife  two  full 
hours  and  half  of  that  precious  time  you  have  wasted  plead 
ing  the  cause  of  a  possible  rival,  for  he  actually  did  look  at 
you  with  more  than  a  passing  admiration,  Judithe,  it  was  a 
case  of  witchery  at  first  sight;  but  for  all  that  I  refuse  to 
allow  him  to  be  a  skeleton  at  our  feast  this  morning.  There 
comes  Phil  Masterson  for  me,  I  must  go  ;  but  remember,  this 
is  not  a  day  for  considerations  of  wars  and  retribution ;  it  is 
a  day  for  love." 

"I  shall  remember,"  she  said,  quietly,  and  walked  to  the 
window  looking  out  on  the  swaying  limbs  of  the  great  trees ; 
they  were  being  swept  by  gusts  of  wind,  driving  threatening 
clouds  from  which  the  trio  had  ridden  in  haste  lest  a  rain 
storm  be  back  of  their  shadows.  The  storm  Monroe  had 
prophesied  the  night  before  had  delayed  and  grumbled  on 
the  way,  but  it  was  coming  for  all  that,  and  she  welcomed 
the  coming.  A  storm  would  probably  delay  that  guard  for 
which  McVeigh  had  sent,  and  even  the  delay  of  a  few  hours 
might  mean  safety  for  Captain  Monroe ;  otherwise,  she — 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  355 

She  had  learned  all  about  the  adventures  of  the  papers,  and 
had  made  her  plans.  Some  time  during  that  day  or  evening 
there  would  be  a  raid  made  on  the  Terrace  by  Federals  in 
Confederate  uniform.  They  would  probably  be  thought 
by  the  inmates  a  party  of  daring  foragers,  and  would  visit 
the  smoke  houses,  and  confiscate  the  contents  of  the  pantry. 
Incidentally  they  would  carry  Colonel  McVeigh  and  Cap 
tain  Masterson  back  to  the  coast  as  prisoners,  if  the  re 
quired  papers  were  not  found,  otherwise  nothing  of  person 
or  property  would  be  molested  by  them ;  and  they  would, 
of  course,  free  Captain  Monroe,  but  force  him,  also,  to  go 
with  them  until  within  Federal  lines  and  safety. 

She  had  planned  it  all  out,  and  knew  it  would  not  be  diffi 
cult.  The  coast  was  not  far  away,  a  group  of  men  in  Con 
federate  uniform  could  ride  across  the  country  to  the  Salka- 
hatchie,  at  that  point,  unobserved.  The  fortifications  on 
the  river  had  men  coming  and  going,  though  not  thor 
oughly  manned,  and  just  now  the  upper  one  had  no  men  sta 
tioned  there,  which  accounted  for  the  fact  that  Colonel  Mc 
Veigh  had  to  send  farther  for  extra  men.  He  could  not 
spare  his  own  orderlies,  and  Masterson's  had  not  yet  re 
turned  from  following  Pierson.  Unless  the  raiders  should 
meet  with  a  detachment  of  bona-fide  Confederates  there 
was  not  one  chance  in  fifty  of  their  being  suspected  if  they 
came  by  the  back  roads  she  had  mapped  out  and  suggested ; 
and  if  they  reached  the  Terrace  before  the  Confederate 
guard,  Monroe  would  be  freed. 

She  had  not  known  there  was  that  hope  when  she  wrote 
the  note  consenting  to  the  marriage.  She  heard  they  had 
sent  down  to  the  fort  for  some  men  and  supposed  it  was  the 
first  fort  on  the  river — merely  an  hour's  ride  away.  It  was 
not  until  they  were  in  the  saddle  that  she  learned  it  would 


356  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

be  an  all  day's  journey  to  the  fort  and  back,  and  that 
the  colored  carrier  had  just  started. 

She  knew  that  if  it  were  a  possible  thing  some  message 
would  be  sent  to  her  by  the  Federals  as  to  the  hour  she 
might  expect  them,  but  if  it  were  not  possible — well — 

She  chafed  under  the  uncertainty,  and  watched  the  storm 
approaching  over  the  far  level  lands  of  the  east.  Blue  black 
clouds  rolled  now  where  the  sun  had  shot  brief  red  glances 
on  rising.  Somewhere  there  under  those  heavy  shadows  the 
men  she  waited  for  were  riding  to  her  through  the  pine 
woods  and  over  the  swamp  lands ;  if  she  had  been  a  praying 
woman  she  would  have  prayed  that  they  ride  faster — no 
music  so  longed  for  as  the  jingle  of  their  accoutrements ! 

She  avoided  the  rest  and  retired  to  her  own  room  on  the 
plea  of  fatigue.  Colonel  McVeigh  was  engaged  with  his 
mother  and  Judge  Clarkson  on  some  affairs  of  the  plan 
tation,  so  very  much  had  to  be  crowded  into  his  few  hours 
at  home.  Money  had  to  be  raised,  property  had  to  be  sold, 
and  the  salable  properties  were  growing  so  few  in  those 
days. 

Masterson  was  waiting  impatiently  for  the  Colonel,  whom 
he  had  only  seen  for  the  most  brief  exchange  of  words  that 
morning.  Itwas  now  noon.  He  had  important  news  to  com 
municate  before  that  guard  arrived  for  Monroe ;  it  might  en 
tail  surprising  disclosures,  and  the  minutes  seemed  like 
hours  to  him,  while  Judge  Clarkson  leisurely  presented  one 
paper  after  another  for  Kenneth's  perusal  and  signature, 
and  Mrs.  McVeigh  listened  and  asked  advice. 

Judithe  descended  the  stairs,  radiant  in  a  gown  of  fluffy 
yellow  stuff,  with  girdle  of  old  topaz  and  a  fillet  of  the  same 
in  quaint  dull  settings.  The  storm  had  grown  terrific — the 
heavy  clouds  trailing  to  the  earth  and  the  lightning  flashes 
lit  up  dusky  corners.  Evilena  had  proposed  darkening  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  357 

windows  entirely,  lighting  the  lamps  to  dispel  the  gloom, 
and  dressing  in  their  prettiest  to  drive  away  forgetfulness  of 
the  tragedy  of  the  elements ;  it  was  Kenneth's  last  day  at 
home ;  they  must  be  gay  though  the  heavens  fell. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  sitting  room  and  dining  room  pre 
sented  the  unusual  mid-day  spectacle  of  jewels  glittering  in 
the  lamplight,  for  Gertrude  also  humored  Evilena's  whim 
to  the  extent  of  a  dainty  dress  of  softest  sky  blue  silk,  half 
covered  with  the  finest  work  of  delicate  lace ;  she  wore  a 
pretty  brooch  and  bracelet  of  turquoise,  and  was  a  charming 
picture  of  blonde  beauty,  a  veritable  white  lily  of  a  woman. 
Dr.  Delaven,  noting  the  well-bred  grace,  the  gentle,  unas 
suming  air  so  truly  refined  and  patrician,  figuratively  took 
off  his  hat  to  the  Colonel,  who,  between  two  such  alluring 
examples  of  femininity,  two  women  of  such  widely  different 
types  as  the  Parisian  and  the  Carolinian,  had  even  been  able 
to  make  a  choice.  For  he  could  see  what  every  one  but 
Kenneth  could  see  plainly,  that  while  Miss  Loring  was 
gracious  and  interested  in  her  other  men  friends,  he  re 
mained,  as  ever,  her  one  hero,  apart  from,  and  above  all 
others,  and  if  Judithe  de  Caron  had  not  appeared  upon  the 
scene — 

Gertrude  looked  even  lovelier  than  she  had  the  night  be 
fore  at  the  party.  Her  cheeks  had  a  color  unusual,  and  her 
eyes  were  bright  with  hope,  expectation,  or  some  unspoken 
cause  for  happiness ;  it  sounded  in  the  tones  of  her  voice  and 
shone  in  the  happy  curves  of  her  lips  as  she  smiled. 

"Look  at  yourself  in  the  glass,  Gertrude,"  said  Evilena, 
dragging  her  to  the  long  mirror  in  the  sitting  room,  "you 
are  always  lovely,  dear,  but  today  you  are  entrancingly 
beautiful." 

"Today  I  am  entrancingly  happy,"  returned  Miss  Loring, 
looking  in  the  mirror,  but  seeing  in  it  not  herself,  but  Ju- 


358  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

dithe,  who  was  crossing  the  hall,  and  who  looked  like  a 
Spanish  picture  in  her  gleam  of  yellow  tissues  and  topazes. 

"Wasn't  it  clever  of  me  to  think  of  lighting  the  lamps?" 
asked  Evilena  in  frank  self-laudation,  "just  listen  how  that 
rain  beats ;  and  did  you  see  the  hail  ?  Well,  it  fell,  lots  of  it, 
while  we  were  dressing ;  that's  what  makes  the  air  so  cool. 
I  hope  it  will  storm  all  the  rain  down  at  once  and  then  give 
us  a  clear  day  tomorrow,  when  Kenneth  has  to  go  away." 

"It  would  be  awful  for  any  one  to  be  out  in  a  storm  like 
this,"  remarked  the  other  as  the  crash  of  thunder  shook  the 
house ;  "what  about  Captain  Monroe  having  to  go  through 
it?" 

"Caroline  said  the  guard  has  just  got  here,  so  I  suppose 
he  will  have  to  go  no  matter  what  the  weather  is.  Well,  I 
suppose  he'd  just  as  soon  be  killed  by  the  storm  as  to  be 
shot  for  a  spy.  Only  think  of  it — a  guest  of  ours  to  be  taken 
away  as  a  spy !" 

"It  is  dreadful,"  assented  Gertrude,  and  then  looking  at 
Judithe,  she  added,  "I  hope  you  were  not  made  nervous  by 
the  shot  and  excitement  last  night ;  I  assure  you  we  do  not 
usually  have  such  finales  to  our  parties." 

"I  am  not  naturally  timid,  thank  you,"  returned  Judithe, 
with  a-  careless  smile,  all  the  more  careless  that  she  felt  the 
blue  eyes  were  regarding  her  with  unusual  watchfulness; 
"one  must  expect  all  those  inconveniences  in  war  times, 
especially  when  people  are  located  on  the  border  land,  and 
I  hear  it  is  really  but  a  short  ride  to  the  coast,  where  your 
enemies  have  their  war  vessels  for  blockade.  Did  I  un 
derstand  you  to  say  the  military  men  have  come  for  your 
friend,  the  Federal  Captain?  What  a  pity!  He  danced 
so  well!" 

And  with  the  careless  smile  still  on  her  lips,  she  passed 
them  and  crossed  the  hall  to  the  library. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  359 

Evilena  shook  her  head  and  sighed.  "/  am  just  broken 
hearted  over  his  arrest,"  she  acknowledged,  "but  it  is  be 
cause — well,  it  is  not  merely  because  he  was  a  good  dancer ! 
Gertrude,  I — I  did  something  horrid  this  morning,  I  just 
could  not  eat  my  breakfast  without  showing  my  sympathy 
in  some  way.  You  know  those  last  cookies  I  baked  ?  Well, 
I  had  some  of  those  sent  over  with  his  breakfast." 

"Poor  fellow !"  and  Delaven  shook  his  head  sadly  over  the 
fate  of  Monroe.  Evilena  eyed  him  suspiciously ;  but  his  face 
was  all  innocence  and  sympathy. 

"It  is  terrible,"  she  assented ;  "poor  mama  just  wept  this 
morning  when  we  heard  of  it ;  of  course,  if  he  really  proves 
to  be  a  spy,  we  should  not  care  what  happened  to  him ;  but 
mama  thinks  of  his  mother,  and  of  his  dead  brother,  and 
— well,  we  both  prayed  for  him  this  morning ;  it  was  all  we 
could  do.  Kenneth  says  no  one  must  go  near  him,  and  of 
course  Kenneth  knows  what  is  best ;  but  we  are  both  hoping 
with  all  our  hearts  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  that  spy ; 
funny,  isn't  it,  that  we  are  praying  and  crying  on  account  of 
a  man  who,  after  all,  is  a  real  Yankee?" 

"Faith,  I'd  turn  Yankee  myself  for  the  same  sweet  sym 
pathy,"  declared  Delaven,  and  received  only  a  reproachful 
glance  for  his  frivolity. 

Judithe  crossed  the  hall  to  the  library,  the  indifferent 
smile  still  on  her  lips,  her  movements  graceful  and  unhur 
ried  ;  under  the  curious  eyes  of  Gertrude  Loring  she  would 
show  no  special  interest  in  the  man  under  discussion,  or  the 
guard  just  arrived,  but  for  all  that  the  arrival  of  the  guard 
determined  her  course.  All  her  courage  was  needed  to  face 
the  inevitable;  the  inevitable  had  arrived,  and  she  was  not 
a  coward. 

She  looked  at  the  wedding  ring  on  her  finger ;  it  had  been 
the  wedding  ring  of  the  dowager  long  ago,  and  she  had 


360  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

given  it  to  Kenneth  McVeigh  that  morning  for  the  cere 
mony. 

"Maman  would  approve  if  she  knew  all,"  she  assured  her 
self,  and  now  she  touched  the  ring  to  remind  her  of  many 
things,  and  to  blot  out  the  rememberance  of  others,  for  in 
stance,  the  avowal  of  love  under  the  arbor  in  the  dusk  of  the 
night  before ! 

"But  that  was  last  night,"  she  thought,  grimly;  "the 
darkness  made  me  impressionable,  the  situation  made  of  me 
a  nervous  fool,  who  said  the  thing  she  felt  and  had  no  right 
to  feel.  It  is  no  longer  night,  and  I  am  no  longer  a  fool ! 
Do  not  let  me  forget,  little  ring,  why  I  allowed  you  to  be 
placed  there.  I  am  going  to  tell  him  now,  and  I  shall  need 
you  and — Maman." 

So  she  passed  into  the  library ;  there  could  be  no  further 
delay,  since  the  guard  had  arrived;  Monroe  should  not  be 
sacrificed. 

She  closed  the  door  after  her  and  looked  around.  A  man 
was  in  the  large  arm  chair  by  the  table,  but  it  was  not  Col 
onel  McVeigh.  It  was  Matthew  Loring,  whose  man  Ben 
was  closing  a  refractory  banging  shutter,  and  drawing  cur 
tains  over  the  windows,  while  Pluto  brought  in  a  lighted 
lamp  for  the  table,  and  both  of  them  listened  stoically  to 
Loring's  grumbling. 

For  a  wonder  he  approved  of  the  innovation  of  lamps 
and  closed  shutters.  He  had,  in  fact,  come  from  his  own 
room  because  of  the  fury  of  the  storm.  He  growled  that  the 
noise  of  it  annoyed  him,  but  would  not  have  acknowledged 
the  truth,  that  the  force  of  it  appalled  him,  and  that  he 
shrank  from  being  alone  while  ^he  lightning  threw  threats 
in  every  direction,  and  the  crashes  of  thunder  shook  the 
house. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  361 

"No,  Kenneth  isn't  here,"  he  answered,  grumpily.  "They 
told  me  he  was,  but  the  nigger  lied." 

"Mahsa  Kenneth  jest  gone  up  to  his  own  room,  Madame 
Caron,"  said  Pluto,  quietly.  "Mist'ess,  she  went,  too,  an' 
Judge  Clarkson." 

"Humph !  Clarkson  has  got  him  pinned  down  at  last, 
has  he?"  and  there  was  a  note  of  satisfaction  in  his  tone. 
"I  was  beginning  to  think  that  between  this  fracas  with  the 
spy,  and  his  galloping  around  the  country,  he  would  have  no 
time  left  for  business.  I  should  not  think  you'd  consider  it 
worth  while  to  go  pleasure-riding  such  a  morning  as  this." 

"Oh,  yes ;  it  was  quite  worth  while,"  she  answered,  se 
renely  ;  "the  storm  did  not  break  until  our  return.  You  are 
waiting  for  Colonel  McVeigh?  So  am  I,  and  in  the  mean 
time  I  am  at  your  service,  willing  to  be  entertained." 

"I  am  too  much  upset  to  entertain  any  one  today,"  he 
declared,  fretfully ;  "that  trouble  last  night  spoiled  my  rest. 
I  knew  the  woman  Margeret  lied  when  she  came  back  and 
said  it  was  only  an  accident.  I'm  nervous  as  a  cat  today.  The 
doctors  forbid  me  every  form  of  excitement,  yet  they  quar 
ter  a  Yankee  spy  in  the  room  over  mine,  and  commence 
shooting  affairs  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  It's — it's  out 
rageous  !" 

He  fell  back  in  the  chair,  exhausted  by  his  indignation. 
Judithe  took  the  fan  from  Pluto's  hand  and  waved  it  gently 
above  the  dark,  vindictive  face.  His  eyes  were  closed  and 
as  she  surveyed  the  cynical  countenance  a  sudden  determi 
nation  came  to  her.  If  she  should  leave  for  Savannah  in  the 
morning,  why  not  let  Matthew  Loring  hear,  first,  of  the 
plans  for  Loringwood's  future?  She  knew  how  to  hurt 
Kenneth  McVeigh ;  she  meant  to  see  if  there  was  any  way  of 
hurting  this  trafficker  in  humanity,  this  aristocratic  panderer 
to  horrid  vices. 


362  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"You  may  go,  Pluto,"  she  said,  kindly.  "I  will  ring  if 
you  are  needed." 

Both  the  colored  men  went  out,  closing  the  door  after 
them,  and  she  brought  a  hassock  and  placed  it  beside  his 
chair,  and  seated  herself,  after  taking  a  book  from  the  shelf 
and  opening  it  without  glancing  at  the  title  or  pages. 

"Since  you  refuse  to  be  entertainer,  Monsieur  Loring, 
you  must  submit  to  being  entertained,"  she  said,  pleasantly ; 
"shall  I  sing  to  you,  read  to  you,  or  tell  you  a  story  ?" 

Her  direct  and  persistent  graciousness  made  him  straight 
en  up  in  his  chair  and  regard  her,  inquiringly ;  there  was  a 
curious  mocking  tone  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke,  but  the 
voice  itself  was  forgotten  as  he  looked  in  her  face. 

The  light  from  the  lamp  was  shining  full  on  her  face,  and 
the  face  was  closer  to  him  than  it  had  ever  been  before.  If 
she  designed  to  dazzle  him  by  thus  arranging  a  living  pic 
ture  for  his  benefit  she  certainly  succeeded.  He  had  never 
really  seen  her  until  now,  and  he  caught  his  breath  sharply 
and  was  conscious  that  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  he 
had  ever  seen  in  his  life  was  looking  at  him  with  a  strange 
smile  touching  her  perfect  mouth,  and  a  strange  haunting 
resemblance  to  some  one  once  known,  shining  in  her  dark 
eyes. 

"What  sort  of  stories  do  you  prefer — love  stories?"  she 
continued,  as  he  did  not  speak — only  stared  at  her ;  "or,  since 
we  have  had  a  real  adventure  in  the  house  last  night,  possibly 
you  would  be  interested  in  the  intrigue  back  of  that — would 
you?" 

"Do  you  mean,"  he  asked,  eagerly,  "that  you  could  give 
me  some  new  facts  concerning  the  spy — Monroe  ?" 

"Yes,  I  really  think  I  could,"  she  said,  amiably,  "as  there 
happen  to  be  several  things  upon  which  you  have  not  been 
well  informed." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  363 

"I  know  it!"  he  said,  tapping  the  arm  of  the  chair,  im 
patiently,  "they  never  tell  me  half  what  is  going  on,  now ! — 
as  if  I  was  a  child !  and  when  I  ask  the  cursed  niggars,  they 
lie  so.  Well,  well,  go  on  ;  tell  me  the  latest  news  about  this 
Yankee — Monroe." 

"The  very  latest?"  and  she  smiled  again  in  that  strange 
mocking  way.  "Well,  the  latest  is  that  he  is  entirely  inno 
cent  ;  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  taking  of  the 
papers." 

"Madame  Caron !" 

"Yes,  I  am  quite  serious.  I  was  just  about  to  tell  Colonel 
McVeigh,  but  we  can  chat  about  it  until  he  comes ;"  and 
she  pretended  not  to  notice  the  wonder  in  his  face,  and  went 
serenely  on,  "in  fact,  it  was  not  a  man  who  took  the  papers 
at  all,  but  a  woman ;  yes,  a  woman,"  she  said,  nodding  her 
head,  as  a  frown  of  quick  suspicion  touched  his  forehead 
and  his  eyes  gleamed  darkly  on  her,  "in  fact  a  confidential 
agent,  whom  Captain  Masterson  designated  yesterday  as 
most  dangerous  to  the  Confederate  cause.  I  am  about  to 
inform  Colonel  McVeigh  of  her  identity.  But  I  do  not 
fancy  that  will  interest  you  nearly  so  much  as  another  story 
I  have  for  you  personally." 

She  paused  and  drew  back  a  little,  to  better  observe  every 
expression  of  his  countenance.  He  was  glaring  at  her  and 
his  breath  was  coming  in  broken  gasps. 

"There  are  really  two  of  those  secret  Federal  agents  in 
this  especial  territory,"  she  continued,  "two  women  who 
have  worked  faithfully  for  the  Union.  I  fancied  you  might 
be  especially  interested  in  the  story  of  one  of  them,  as  she 
belongs  to  the  Loring  family." 

"To  our  family?  That  is  some  cursed  Yankee  lie!"  he 
burst  out  fiercely,  "every  Loring  is  loyal  to  the  South !  To 


364  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

our  family  ?  Let  them  try  to  prove  that  statement !  It  can't 
be  done !" 

"You  are  quite  right,  Monsieur  Loring,"  she  agreed, 
quietly,  "it  would  be  difficult  to  prove,  even  if  you  wished 
to  do  it."  He  fairly  glared  at  the  possibility  that  he  should 
want  to  prove  it.  "But  it  may  have  an  interest  to  you  for  all 
that,  since  the  girl  in  question  was  your  brother's  daughter." 

"My  brother's — !"  He  seemed  choking,  and  he  gazed  at 
her  with  a  horrible  expression.  The  door  opened  and  Mrs. 
McVeigh  entered  rather  hastily,  looking  for  something  in 
the  desk.  Loring  had  sunk  back  in  the  chair,  and  she  did 
not  see  his  face,  but  she  could  see  Judithe's,  and  it  was  up 
lifted  and  slightly  smiling. 

"Have  you  found  something  mutually  interesting?"  she 
asked,  glancing  at  the  book  open  on  Judithe's  knee. 

"Yes;  a  child's  story,"  returned  her  guest,  and  then  the 
door  closed,  and  the  two  were  again  alone. 

"There  is  a  woman  to  be  loved  and  honored,  if  one  could 
only  forget  the  sort  of  son  she  has  trained,"  remarked  Ju- 
dithe,  thoughtfully.  "With  my  heart  I  love  her,  but  with  my 
reason  I  condemn  her.  Can  you  comprehend  that,  Mon 
sieur  Loring  ?  I  presume  not,  as  you  do  not  interest  yourself 
with  hearts." 

He  was  still  staring  at  her  like  a  man  in  a  frightened 
dream ;  she  could  see  the  perspiration  standing  on  his  fore 
head  ;  his  lips  were  twitching  horribly. 

"You  understand,  of  course,"  she  said,  continuing  her 
former  discussion,  "that  the  daughter  in  the  story  is  not  the 
lovely  lady  who  is  your  heiress,  and  who  is  called  Miss 
Loring.  It  is  a  younger  daughter  I  refer  to ;  she  had  no 
surname,  because  masters  do  not  marry  slaves,  and  her 
mother  was  a  half  Greek  octoroon  from  Florida ;  her  name 
was  Retta  Lacaris,  and  your  brother  promised  her  the  free- 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  365 

dom  she  never  received  until  death  granted  her  what  you 
could  not  keep  from  her ;  do  you  remember  that  mother  and 
child,  Monsieur  Loring? — the  mother  who  went  mad  and 
died,  and  the  child  whom  you  sold  to  Kenneth  McVeigh? 
— sold  as  a  slave  for  his  bachelor  establishment ;  a  slave  who 
would  look  like  a  white  girl,  who,  you  contracted,  should 
have  the  accomplishments  of  a  white  girl,  but  without  a 
white  girl's  inconvenient  independence,  and  the  power  of 
disposing  of  herself." 

"You — you  dare  to  tell  me! — you — "  He  was  choking 
with  rage,  but  she  raised  her  hand  for  silence,  and  continued 
in  the  same  quiet  tone : 

"I  have  discussed  the  same  affair  in  the  salons  of  Paris — 
why  not  with  you  ?  It  was  in  Paris  your  good  friend,  Mon 
sieur  Larue,  placed  the  girl  to  receive  the  education  for 
which  Kenneth  McVeigh  paid.  It  was  also  your  friend  who 
bribed  her  to  industry  by  a  suggestion  that  she  might  gain 
freedom  if  her  accomplishments  warranted  it.  But  you  had 
forgotten,  Matthew  Loring,  that  the  child  of  your  brother 
had  generations  of  white  blood — of  intellectual  ancestry  back 
of  her.  She  had  heard  before  leaving  your  shores  the  sort 
of  freedom  she  was  intended  for,  and  your  school  was  not  a 
prison  strong  enough  to  hold  her.  She  escaped,  fled  into 
the  country,  hid  like  a  criminal  in  the  day,  and  walked  alone 
at  night  through  an  unknown  county,  a  girl  of  seventeen! 
She  found  a  friend  in  an  aged  woman,  to  whom  she  told  her 
story,  every  word  of  it,  Matthew  Loring,  and  was  received 
into  the  home  as  a  daughter.  That  home,  all  the  wealth 
which  made  it  magnificent,  and  the  title  which  had  once  be 
longed  to  her  benefactress,  became  the  property  of  your 
brother's  daughter  before  that  daughter  was  twenty  years 
old.  Now,  do  you  comprehend  why  one  woman  has  crossed 
the  seas  to  help,  if  possible,  overthrow  an  institution  cham- 

24 


366  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

pioned  by  you?  Now  do  you  comprehend  my  assurance 
that  Captain  Monroe  is  innocent?  Now,  dare  you  contest 
my  statement  that  one  of  the  Loring  family  is  a  Federal 
agent  ?" 

"By  God !  I  know  you  at  last !"  and  he  half  arose  from 
his  chair  as  if  to  strike  her  with  both  upraised  shaking 
hands.  "I — I'll  have  you  tied  up  and  whipped  until  you 
shed  blood  for  every  word  you've  uttered  here!  You 
wench!  You  black  cattle!  You — " 

"Stop!"  she  said,  stepping  back  and  smiling  at  his  im 
potent  rage.  "You  are  in  the  house  of  Colonel  McVeigh, 
and  you  are  speaking  to  his  wife !" 

He  uttered  a  low  cry  of  horror,  and  fell  back  in  the 
chair,  nerveless,  speechless. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  interested,  if  not  pleased,"  she 
continued,  "and  I  wanted,  moreover,  to  tell  you  that  your 
sale  of  your  brother's  child  was  one  reason  why  your  estate 
of  Loringwood  was  selected  in  preference  to  any  other  as  a 
dowered  home  for  free  children — girl  children,  of  color ! 
Your  ancestral  estate,  Monsieur  Loring,  will  be  used  as  an 
industrial  home  for  such  young  girls.  The  story  of  your 
human  traffic  shall  be  told,  and  the  name  of  Matthew  Loring 
execrated  in  those  walls  long  after  the  last  of  the  Lorings 
shall  be  under  the  sod.  That  is  the  monument  I  have  de 
signed  for  you,  and  the  design  will  be  carried  out  whether  I 
live  or  die." 

He  did  not  speak,  only  sat  there  with  that  horrible  stare  in 
his  eyes,  and  watched  her. 

"I  shall  probably  not  see  you  again,"  she  continued,  "as 
I  leave  for  Savannah  in  the  morning,  unless  Colonel  Mc 
Veigh  holds  his  wife  as  a  spy,  but  I  could  not  part  without 
taking  you  into  my  confidence  to  a  certain  extent,  though  I 
presume  it  is  not  necessary  to  tell  you  how  useless  it  would 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  357 

be  for  you  to  use  this  knowledge  to  my  disadvantage  unless 
I  myself  should  avow  it.  You  know  I  have  told  you  the 
truth,  but  you  could  not  prove  it  to  any  other,  and — well, 
I  think  that  is  all."  She  was  replacing  the  book  in  the  case 
when  Gertrude  entered  from  the  hall.  Judithe  only  heard 
the  rustle  of  a  gown,  and  without  turning  her  head  to  see 
who  it  was,  added,  "Yes,  that  is  all,  except  to  assure  you 
our  tete-a-tete  has  been  exceedingly  delightful  to  me;  I 
had  actually  forgotten  that  a  storm  was  'raging !" 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Miss  Loring  glanced  about  in  surprise  when  she  found  no 
one  in  the  room  but  her  uncle  and  Madame  Caron. 

"Oh,  I  did  not  know  you  had  left  your  room,"  she  re 
marked,  going  towards  him ;  "do  you  think  it  quite  wise  ? 
And  the  storm ;  isn't  it  dreadful  ?" 

"I  have  endeavored  to  make  him  forget  it,"  remarked 
Judithe,  "and  trust  I  have  not  been  entirely  a  failure." 

She  was  idly  fingering  the  volumes  in  the  book-case,  and 
glanced  over  her  shoulder  as  she  spoke.  Her  hands  trem 
bled,  but  her  teeth  were  set  under  the  smiling  lips — she  was 
waiting  for  his  accusation. 

"I  have  no  doubt  my  uncle  appreciates  your  endeavors," 
returned  Gertrude,  with  civil  uncordiality,  as  she  halted 
back  of  his  chair,  "but  he  is  not  equal  to  gayeties  today; 
last  night's  excitement  was  quite  a  shock  to  him,  as  it  was  to 
all  of  us." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Judithe ;  "we  were  just  speaking  of  it." 


368  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"Phil  Masterson  tells  me  the  men  will  be  here  some  time 
today  for  Captain  Monroe,"  continued  Gertrude,  still  speak- 
;'ng  from  the  back  of  his  chair,  over  which  she  was  leaning. 
'Phil's  orderly  just  returned  from  following  the  spy  last 
night.  Caroline  made  us  think  at  first  it  was  the  guard  al 
ready  from  the  fort,  but  that  was  a  mistake ;  she  could  not 
see  clearly  because  of  the  storm.  And,  uncle,  he  came  back 
without  ever  getting  in  sight  of  the  man,  though  he  rode  un 
til  morning  before  he  turned  back ;  isn't  it  too  bad  for — " 

Something  in  that  strange  silence  of  the  man  in  the 
chair  suddenly  checked  the  speech  on  her  lips,  and  with  a 
quick  movement  she  was  in  front  of  him,  looking  in  his 
face,  into  the  eyes  which  turned  towards  her  with  a  strange, 
horrible  expression  in  them,  and  the  lips  vainly  trying  to 
speak,  to  give  her  warning.  But  the  blow  of  paralysis  had 
fallen  again.  He  was  speechless,  helpless.  Her  piercing 
scream  brought  the  others  from  the  sitting  room ;  the 
stricken  man  was  carried  to  his  own  apartment  by  order  of 
Dr.  Delaven,  who  could  give  them  little  hope  of  recovery ; 
his  speech  might,  of  course,  return  as  it  had  done  a  year  be 
fore,  after  the  other  paralytic  stroke,  but — 

Mrs.  McVeigh  put  her  arm  protectingly  around  the  weep 
ing  girl,  comprehending  that  even  though  he  might  recover 
his  speech,  any  improvement  must  now  be  but  a  tem 
porary  respite. 

At  the  door  Gertrude  halted  and  turned  to  the  still  figure 
at  the  book  case. 

"Madame  Caron,  you — you  were  talking  to  him,"  she 
said,  appealingly,  "you  did  not  suspect,  either  ?" 

"I  did  not  suspect,"  answered  Judithe,  quietly,  and  then 
they  went  out,  leaving  her  alone,  staring  after  them  and 
then  at  the  chair,  where  but  a  few  minutes  ago  he  had  been 
Seated,  full  of  a  life  as  vindictive  as  her  own,  if  not  so  strong ; 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  369 

and  now — had  she  murdered  him  ?  She  glanced  at  the  mir 
ror  back  of  the  writing  desk,  and  saw  that  she  was  white 
and  strange  looking ;  she  rubbed  her  hands  together  because 
they  were  so  suddenly  cold.  She  heard  some  one  halt  at 
the  door,  and  she  turned  again  to  the  book-case  lest  whoever 
entered  should  be  shocked  at  her  face. 

It  was  Evilena  who  peered  in  wistfully  in  search  of  some 
one  not  oppressed  by  woe. 

"Kenneth's  last  day  home,"  she  lamented,  "and  such  a 
celebration  of  it ;  isn't  it  perfectly  awful  ?  Just  as  if  Captain 
Monroe  and  the  storm  had  not  brought  us  distress  enough ! 
Of  course,"  she  added,  contritely,  "it's  unfeeling  of  me  to 
take  that  view  of  it,  and  I  don't  expect  you  to  sympathize 
with  me.''  There  was  a  pause  in  which  she  felt  herself  con 
demned.  "And  the  house  all  lit  up  as  for  a  party ;  oh,  dear ; 
it  will  all  be  solemn  as  a  grave  now  in  spite  of  the  lights, 
and  our  pretty  dresses ;  well,  I  think  I'll  take  a  book  into 
the  sitting  room.  I  could  not  possibly  read  in  here,"  and  she 
cast  a  shrinking  glance  towards  the  big  chair.  "Is  that  not 
Romeo  and  Juliet  under  your  hand  ?  That  will  do,  please." 

Judithe  took  down  the  volume,  turned  the  leaves  rapidly, 
and  smiled. 

"You  will  find  the  balcony  scene  on  the  tenth  page,"  she 
remarked. 

And  then  they  both  laughed,  and  Evilena  beat  a  retreat 
lest  some  of  the  others  should  enter  and  catch  her  laughing 
when  the  rest  of  the  household  were  doleful,  and  she  simply 
could  not  be  doleful  over  Matthew  Loring;  she  was  only 
sorry  Kenneth's  day  was  spoiled. 

The  little  episode,  slight  as  it  was,  broke  in  on  the  un 
pleasant  fancies  of  Judithe,  and  substituted  a  new  element. 
She  closed  the  glass  doors  and  turned  towards  the  window, 
quite  herself  again. 


370  THE  BONDWOMAN, 

She  stepped  between  the  curtains  and  looked  out  on  the 
driving  storm,  trying  to  peer  through  the  grey  sheets  of 
falling  rain.  The  guard,  then,  according  to  Miss  Loring, 
had  not  yet  arrived,  after  all,  and  the  others,  the  Federals, 
had  a  chance  of  being  first  on  the  field ;  oh,  why — why  did 
they  not  hurry? 

The  pelting  of  the  rain  on  the  window  prevented  her  from 
hearing  the  entrance  of  Colonel  McVeigh  and  the  Judge, 
while  the  curtain  hid  her  effectually;  it  was  not  until  she 
turned  to  cross  the  room  into  the  hall  that  she  was  aware  of 
the  two  men  beside  the  table,  each  with  documents  and 
papers  of  various  sorts,  which  they  were  arranging.  The 
Judge  held  one  over  which  he  hesitated ;  looking  at  the 
younger  man  thoughfully,  and  finally  he  said: 

"The  rest  are  all  right,  Kenneth ;  it  was  not  for  those  I 
wanted  to  see  you  alone,  but  for  this.  I  could  not  have  it 
come  under  your  mother's  notice,  and  the  settlement  has 
already  been  delayed  too  long,  but  your  absence,  first 
abroad,  then  direct  to  the  frontier,  and  then  our  own  war, 
and  Mr.  Loring's  illness — " 

He  was  rambling  along  inconsequently ;  McVeigh  glanced 
at  him,  questioningly ;  it  was  so  rare  a  thing  to  see  the  Judge 
ill  at  ease  over  any  legal  transaction,  but  he  plainly  was, 
now;  and  when  his  client  reached  over  and  took  the  paper 
from  his  hand  he  surrendered  it  and  broke  off  abruptly  his 
rambling  explanation. 

McVeigh  unfolded  the  paper  and  glanced  at  it  with  an. 
incredulous  frown. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  agreement  to  purchase  a 
girl  of  color,  aged  twelve,  named  Rhoda  Larue  ?  We  have 
bought  no  colored  people  from  the  Lorings,  nor  from  any 
one  else." 

"The  girl  was  contracted  for  without  your  knowledge, 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  371 

my  boy,  before  your  majority,  in  fact ;  though  she  is  men 
tioned  there  as  a  girl  of  color  she  was  to  all  appearances 
perfectly  white,  the  daughter  of  an  octaroon,  and  also  the 
daughter  of  Tom  Loring." 

The  woman  back  of  the  curtain  was  listening  now  with 
every  sense  alert,  never  for  one  instant  had  it  occurred  to 
her  that  Kenneth  McVeigh  did  not  know !  How  she  listened 
for  his  next  words ! 

"And  why  should  a  white  girl  like  that  be  bought  for  the 
McVeigh  plantation?" 

There  was  a  pause;  then  Clarkson  laid  down  the  other 
papers,  and  faced  him,  frankly: 

"Kenneth,  my  boy,  she  was  never  intended  for  the  Mc 
Veigh  plantation,  but  was  contracted  for,  educated,  given 
certain  accomplishments  that  she  might  be  a  desirable  per 
sonal  property  of  yours  when  you  were  twenty." 

McVeigh  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  his  blue  eyes 
flaming. 

"And  who  arranged  this  affair  ? — not — my  father  ?" 

"No." 

"Thank  God  for  that !    Go  on,  who  was  accountable  ?" 

"Your  guardian,  Matthew  Loring.  He  explains  that  he 
made  the  arrangement,  having  in  mind  the  social  entangle 
ment  of  boys  within  our  own  knowledge,  who  have  rushed 
into  unequal  marriages,  or — or  associations  equally  deplora 
ble  with  scheming  women  who  are  alert  where  moneyed 
youth  is  concerned.  Mr.  Loring,  as  your  guardian,  deter 
mined  to  forestall  such  complications  in  your  case.  From 
a  business  point  of  view  he  did  not  think  it  a  bad  invest 
ment,  since,  if  you  for  any  reason,  objected  to  this  arrange 
ment,  a  girl  so  well  educated,  even  accomplished,  could  be 
disposed  of  at  a  profit." 

McVeigh  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 


372  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"So !"  he  said,  bitterly,  "that  was  Matthew  Loring's  ami 
able  little  arrangement.  That  girl,  then,  belonged  not  to  his 
estate,  but  to  Gertrude's.  He  was  her  guardian  as  well  as 
mine ;  he  would  have  given  me  the  elder  sister  as  a  wife, 
and  the  younger  one  as  a  slave.  What  a  curse  the  man  is ! 
It  is  for  such  hellish  deeds  that  every  Southerner  outside  of 
his  own  lands  is  forced  to  defend  slavery  against  heavy  odds. 
The  outsiders  never  stop  to  consider  that  there  is  not  one 
man  out  of  a  thousand  among  us  who  would  use  his  power 
as  this  man  has  used  it  in  this  case ;  the  many  are  condemned 
for  the  sins  of  the  few !  Go  on ;  what  became  of  the  girl  ?" 

"She  was,  in  accordance  with  this  agreement,  sent  to  a 
first-class  school,  from  which  she  disappeared — escaped,  and 
never  was  found  again.  The  money  advanced  from  your 
estate  for  her  education  is,  therefore,  to  be  repaid  you,  with 
the  interest  to  date;  you,  of  course,  must  not  lose  the 
money,  since  Loring  has  failed  to  keep  his  part  of  the 
contract." 

"Good  God !"  muttered  McVeigh,  continuing  his  restless 
walk ;  "it  seems  incredible,  damnable  !  Think  of  it ! — a  girl 
with  the  blood,  the  brain,  the  education  of  a  white  woman, 
and  bought  in  my  name !  I  will  have  nothing — nothing  to 
do  with  such  cursed  traffic !" 

Neither  of  them  heard  the  smothered  sobs  of  the  woman 
kneeling  there  back  of  that  curtain ;  all  the  world  had  been 
changed  for  her  by  his  words. 

She  did  not  hear  the  finale  of  their  conversation,  only  the 
confused  murmer  of  their  voices  came  to  her ;  then,  after  a 
little,  there  was  the  closing  of  a  door,  and  Colonel  McVeigh 
was  alone. 

He  was  seated  in  the  big  chair  where  Matthew  Loring 
had  received  the  stroke  which  meant  death.  The  hassock 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  373 

was  still  beside  it,  and  she  knelt  there,  touching  his  arm, 
timidly. 

He  had  not  heard  her  approach,  but  at  her  touch  he 
turned  from  the  papers. 

"Well,  my  sweetheart,  what  is  it?"  he  said,  and  with 
averted  face  she  whispered : 

"Only  that — I  love  you!— no,"  as  he  bent  towards  her, 
"don't  kiss  me !  I  'never  knew — I  never  guessed." 

"Never  guessed  that  you  loved  me?"  he  asked,  regard 
ing  her  with  a  quizzical  smile.  "Now,  I  guessed  it  all  the 
time,  even  though  you  did  run  away  from  me." 

"No,  no,  it  is  not  that !"  and  she  moved  away,  out  of  the 
reach  of  his  caressing  hands.  "But  I  was  there,  by  the 
window;  I  heard  all  that  story.  I  had  heard  it  long  ago, 
and  I  thought  you  were  to  blame.  I  judged  you — con 
demned  you!  Now  I  see  how  wrong  I  was — wrong  in 
every  way — in  every  way.  I  have  wronged  you — you !  Oh, 
how  I  have  wronged  you!"  she  whispered,  under  her 
breath,  as  she  remembered  the  men  she  looked  for,  had  sent 
for — the  men  who  were  to  take  him  away  a  prisoner ! 

"Nonsense,  dear!"  and  he  clasped  her  hands  and  smiled 
at  her  reassuringly.  "You  are  over-wrought  by  all  the  ex 
citement  here  since  yesterday ;  you  are  nervous  and  remorse 
ful  over  a  trifle ;  you  could  not  wrong  me  in  any  way ;  if  you 
did,  I  forgive  you." 

No,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head  and  gazing  at  him  with 
eyes  more  sad  than  he  had  ever  seen  them ;  "no,  you  would 
not  forgive  me  if  you  knew ;  you  never  will  forgive  me  when 
you  do  know.  And — I  must  tell  you — tell  you  everything — 
tell  you  now — " 

"No,  not  now,  Judithe,"  he  said,  as  he  heard  Masterson's 
voice  in  the  hall.  "We  can't  be  alone  now.  Later  you 
shall  tell  me  all  your  sins  against  me."  He  was  walking 


374  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

with  her  to  the  door  and  looking  down  at  her  with  all  his 
heart  in  his  eyes ;  his  tenderness  made  her  sorrows  all  the 
more  terrible,  and  as  he  bent  to  kiss  her  she  shrunk  from 
him. 

"No,  not  until  I  tell  you  all,"  she  said  again,  then  as  his 
hands  touched  hers  she  suddenly  pressed  them  to  her  lips, 
her  eyes,  her  cheek ;  "and  whatever  you  think  of  me  then, 
when  you  do  hear  all,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  love  you, 
I  love  you,  I  love  you !" 

Then  the  door  closed  behind  her  and  he  was  standing 
there  with  a  puzzled  frown  between  his  eyes  when  Master- 
son  entered.  Her  intense  agitation,  the  passion  in  her  wordC 
and  her  eyes ! — He  felt  inclined  to  follow  and  end  the  my* 
tery  of  it  at  once,  but  Masterson's  voice  stopped  him. 

"I've  been  trying  all  morning  to  have  a  talk,  Colonel,"  hf 
said,  carefully  closing  the  door  and  glancing  about.  "Therf 
have  been  some  new  developments  in  Monroe's  case,  in  fact 
there  have  been  so  many  that  I  have  put  in  the  time  while 
waiting  for  you,  by  writing  down  every  particle  of  new 
testimony  in  the  affair."  He  took  from  his  pocket  some 
written  pages  and  laid  them  on  the  table,  and  beside  them 
a  small  oval  frame.  "They  are  for  your  inspection,  Colonel. 
I  have  no  opinion  I  care  to  express  on  the  matter.  I  have 
only  written  down  Miss  Loring's  statements,  and  the  pic 
ture  speaks  for  itself." 

McVeigh  stared  at  him. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  Miss  Loring's  statement? — and 
what  is  this?" 

He  had  lifted  the  little  frame,  and  looked  at  Masterson, 
who  had  resolutely  closed  his  lips  and  shook  his  head.  He 
meant  that  McVeigh  should  see  for  himself. 

The  cover  flew  back  as  he  touched  the  spring,  and  a  girl's 
face,  dark,  bright,  looked  out  at  him.  It  was  delicately 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  375 

tinted  and  the  work  was  well  done.  He  had  a  curious 
shock  as  the  eye  met  his.  There  was  something  so  familiar 
in  the  poise  of  the  head  and  the  faint  smile  lurking  at  the 
corner  of  the  mouth. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  likeness ;  it  looked  as  Ju- 
dithe  might  possibly  have  looked  at  seventeen.  He  had 
never  seen  her  with  that  childish,  care-free  light  of  happi 
ness  in  her  eyes  ;  she  had  always  been  thoughtful  beyond  her 
years,  but  in  this  picture — 

"Where  did  you  get  this?"  he  asked,  and  his  face  grew 
stern  for  an  instant,  as  Masterson  replied : 

"In  Captain  Monroe's  pocket." 

He  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  Masterson  pointed  to 
the  paper. 

"It  is  all  written  there,  Colonel ;  I  really  prefer  you  should 
read  that  report  first,  and  then  question  me  if  you  care  to. 
I  have  written  each  thing  as  it  occurred.  You  will  see  Miss 
Loring  has  also  signed  her  name  to  it,  preferring  you  would 
accept  that  rather  than  be  called  upon  for  a  personal  ac 
count.  Your  mother  is,  of  course,  ignorant  of  all  this — " 

McVeigh  seemed  scarcely  to  hear  his  words.  Her  voice 
was  yet  sounding  in  his  ears;  her  remorseful  repetition, 
"You  will  never  forgive  me  when  you  do  know !" — was  this 
what  she  meant? 

He  laid  down  the  picture  and  picked  up  the  papers.  Mas 
terson  seated  himself  at  the  other  side  of  the  room  with  his 
back  to  him,  and  waited. 

There  was  the  rustle  of  paper  as  McVeigh  laid  one  page 
after  another  on  the  table.  After  a  little  the  rustle  ceased. 
Masterson  looked  around.  The  Colonel  had  finished  with 
the  report  and  was  again  studying  the  picture. 

"Well?"  said  Masterson. 

"I  cannot  think  this  evidence  at  all  conclusive."    There 


376  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

was  a  pause  and  then  he  added,  "but  the  situation  is  such  that 
every  unusual  thing  relating  to  this  matter  must,  of  course, 
be  investigated.  I  should  like  to  see  Margeret  and  Captain 
Monroe  here;  later  I  may  question  Madame  Caron." 

His  voice  was  very  quiet  and  steady,  but  he  scarcely 
lifted  his  eyes  from  the  picture ;  something  about  it  puzzled 
him;  the  longer  he  looked  at  it  the  less  striking  was  the 
likeness — the  character  of  Judithe's  face,  now,  was  so  dif 
ferent. 

He  was  still  holding  it  at  arm's  length  on  the  table  when 
Margeret  noiselessly  entered  the  room.  She  came  back  of 
him  and  halted  beside  the  table ;  her  eyes  were  also  on  the 
picture,  and  a  smothered  exclamation  made  him  aware  of 
her  presence.  He  closed  the  frame  and  picked  up  the  report 
Masterson  had  given  him. 

"Margeret,"  he  said,  looking  at  her,  curiously,  "have  you 
seen  Madame  Caron  today?" 

"Yes,  Colonel  McVeigh;"  she  showed  no  surprise  at  the 
question,  only  looked  straight  ahead  of  her,  with  those  sol 
emn,  dark  eyes.  He  remembered  the  story  of  her  madness 
years  ago,  and  supposed  that  was  accountable  for  the 
strange,  colorless,  passive  manner. 

"Did  she  speak  to  you?" 

"No,  sir." 

Judithe  opened  the  door  and  looked  in ;  seeing  that  Mc 
Veigh  was  apparently  occupied,  and  not  alone,  she  was 
about  to  retire  when  he  begged  her  to  remain  for  a  few 
minutes.  He  avoided  her  questioning  eyes,  and  offered  her 
a  chair,  with  that  conventional  courtesy  reserved  for  strang 
ers.  She  noted  the  papers  in  his  hand,  and  the  odd  tones 
in  which  he  spoke;  she  was,  after  all,  debarred  from  con 
fessing  ;  she  was  to  be  accused ! 

"A  slight  mystery  is  abroad  here,  and  you  appear  to  be 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  377 

the  victim  of  it,  Madame,"  he  said,  without  looking  at  her. 
"Margeret,  last  night  when  Miss  Loring  sent  you  into  the 
corridor  just  before  the  shot  was  fired,  did  you  see  any  of 
the  ladies  or  servants  of  the  house  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

There  was  not  the  slightest  hesitation  in  the  reply,  but 
Judithe  turned  her  eyes  on  the  woman  with  unusual  in 
terest.  Colonel  McVeigh  consulted  his  notes. 

"Miss  Loring  distinctively  heard  the  rustle  of  a  woman's 
dress  as  her  door  opened;  did  you  hear  that?" 

"No,  sir." 

"You  saw  no  one  and  heard  no  one?" 

"No  one." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  he  regarded  the  woman 
very  sharply. 

Judithe  arose. 

"Only  your  sister  or  myself  could  have  been  in  that  corri 
dor  without  passing  Miss  Loring's  door;  is  Miss  Loring 
suspicious  of  us? — Miss  Loring!" — and  her  tone  was  be 
yond  her  control,  indignant;  of  all  others,  Miss  Loring! 
"Margeret,  whatever  you  saw,  whatever  you  heard  in  that 
corridor,  you  must  tell  Colonel  McVeigh — tell  him !" 

Margeret  turned  a  calm  glance  towards  her  for  a  moment, 
and  quietly  said,  "I  have  told  him,  Madame  Caron;  there 
was  no  one  in  the  corridor." 

"Very  well ;  that  is  all  I  wanted  to  know."  His  words 
were  intended  for  dismissal,  but  she  only  bent  her  head  and 
walked  back  to  the  window,  as  Masterson  entered  with 
Monroe.  The  latter  bowed  to  Judithe  with  more  than  usual 
ceremony,  but  did  not  speak.  Then  he  turned  a  nonchalant 
glance  towards  McVeigh,  and  waited.  The  Colonel  looked 
steadily  at  Judithe  as  he  said : 

"Captain  Monroe,  did  you  know  Madame  Caron  before 


378  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

you  met  her  in  my  house  ?  You  do  not  answer !  Madame 
Caron,  may  I  ask  you  if  you  knew  Captain  Monroe  previous 
to  yesterday  ?" 

"Quite  well,"  she  replied,  graciously;  there  was  almost 
an  air  of  bravado  in  her  glance.  She  had  meant  to  tell  him 
all ;  had  begged  him  to  listen,  but  since  he  preferred  to 
question  her  before  these  men,  and  at  the  probable  sug 
gestion  of  Miss  Loring — well ! 

Masterson  drew  a  breath  of  relief  as  she  spoke.  His  Col 
onel  must  now  exonerate  him  of  any  unfounded  suspicions ; 
but  Monroe  regarded  her  with  somber,  disapproving  eyes. 

"Then,"  and  his  tone  chilled  her ;  it  has  in  it  such  a  sug 
gestion  of  what  justice  he  would  mete  out  to  her  when  he 
knew  all ;  "then  I  am,  under  the  circumstances,  obliged  to 
ask  why  you  acknowledged  the  introduction  given  by  Miss 
Loring?" 

"Oh,  for  the  blunder  of  that  I  was  accountable,  Mon 
sieur,"  and  she  smiled  at  him,  frankly,  the  combative  spirit 
fully  awake,  now,  since  he  chose  to  question  her — her  \ — be 
fore  the  others.  "I  should  have  explained,  perhaps — I  believe 
I  meant  to,  but  there  was  conversation,  and  I  probably  for 
got." 

"I  see !  You  forgot  to  explain,  and  Captain  Monroe  for 
got  you  were  acquainted  when  he  was  questioned,  just 
now." 

"Captain  Monroe  could  not  possibly  forget  the  honor  of 
such  acquaintance,"  retorted  Monroe;  "he  only  refused  to 
answer." 

The  two  men  met  each  other's  eyes  for  an  instant — a 
glance  like  the  crossing  of  swords.  Then  McVeigh  said  : 

"Where  did  you  get  the  picture  found  on  your  person 
last  night  ?" 

"Stole  it,"  said  Monroe,  calmly,  and  McVeigh  flushed  in 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  379 

quick  anger  at  the  evident  lie  and  the  insolence  of  it;  he 
was  lying  then  to  shield  this  woman  who  stood  between 
them — to  shield  her  from  her  husband. 

"Madame  Caron,"  and  she  had  never  before  heard  him 
speak  in  that  tone ;  "did  you  ever  give  Captain  Monroe  a 
picture  of  yourself?" 

"Never!"  she  said,  wonderingly.  Margeret  had  taken  a 
step  forward  and  stood  irresolutely  as  though  about  to 
speak ;  she  was  very  pale,  and  Monroe  knew  in  an  instant 
who  she  was — not  by  the  picture,  but  from  Pluto's  story  last 
night.  The  terror  in  her  eyes  touched  him,  and  as  Mc 
Veigh  lifted  the  picture  from  the  table,  he  spoke. 

"Colonel  McVeigh,  I  will  ask  you  to  study  that  picture 
carefully  before  you  take  for  granted  that  it  is  the  face  of 
any  one  you  know,"  he  said,  quietly ;  "that  picture  was  made 
probably  twenty  years  ago." 

"And  the  woman?" 

"The  woman  is  dead — died  long  ago."  Margeret's  eyes 
closed  for  an  instant,  but  none  of  them  noticed  her.  Ju- 
dithe  regarded  Monroe,  questioningly,  and  then  turned  to 
McVeigh : 

"May  I  not  see  this  picture  you  speak  of,  since — " 

But  Monroe  in  two  strides  was  beside  the  table  where  it 
lay. 

"Colonel  McVeigh,  even  a  prisoner  of  war  should  be 
granted  some  consideration,  and  all  I  ask  of  you  is  to  show 
the  article  in  question  to  no  one  without  first  granting  me  a 
private  interview." 

Again  the  eyes  of  the  men  met  and  the  sincerity,  the  ap 
peal  of  Monroe  impressed  McVeigh ;  something  might  be 
gained  by  conceding  the  request — something  lost  by  refus 
ing  it,  and  he  slipped  the  case  into  his  pocket  without  even 
looking  at  Judithe,  or  noticing  her  question. 


380  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

But  Monroe  looked  at  her,  and  noted  the  quick  resent 
ment  at  his  speech. 

"Pardon,  Madame,"  he  said,  gently;  "my  only  excuse  is 
that  there  is  a  lady  in  the  question." 

"A  lady  who  is  no  longer  living?"  she  asked,  mockingly. 
She  was  puzzled  over  the  affair  of  the  picture,  puzzled  at  the 
effect  it  had  on  McVeigh.  In  some  way  he  was  jealous  con 
cerning  it — jealous,  how  absurd,  when  she  adored  him ! 

Monroe  only  looked  at  her,  but  did  not  reply  to  the  scep 
tical  query.  Gertrude  Loring  came  to  the  door  just  then 
and  spoke  to  McVeigh,  who  went  to  meet  her.  She  wanted 
him  to  go  at  once  to  her  uncle.  He  was  trying  so  hard  to 
speak ;  they  thought  he  was  endeavoring  to  say  "Ken — 
Ken!"  It  was  the  only  tangible  thing  they  could  distin 
guish,  and  he  watched  the  door  continually  as  though  for 
someone's  entrance. 

McVeigh  assured  her  he  would  go  directly,  but  she 
begged  him  to  postpone  all  the  other  business — anything! 
and  to  come  with  her  at  once ;  he  might  be  dying,  he  looked 
like  it,  and  there  certainly  was  some  one  whom  he  wanted ; 
therefore — 

He  turned  with  a  semi-apologetic  manner  to  the  others  in 
the  room. 

"I  shall  return  presently,  and  will  then  continue  the  in 
vestigation,"  he  said,  addressing  Masterson ;  "pending  such 
action  Captain  Monroe  can  remain  here." 

Then  he  closed  the  door  and  followed  Gertrude. 

Judithe  arose  at  that  calm  ignoring  of  herself  and  moved 
to  the  table.  She  guessed  what  it  was  the  dying  man  was 
trying  to  tell  Kenneth — well,  she  would  tell  him  first ! 

Pen  and  paper  were  there  and  she  commenced  to  write, 
interrupting  herself  to  turn  to  Masterson,  who  was  looking 
out  at  the  storm. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  381 

"Is  there  any  objection  to  Captain  Monroe  holding  con 
verse  with  other — guests  in  the  house?"  she  asked,  with  a 
little  ironical  smile. 

Masterson  hesitated,  and  then  said :  "I  do  not  think  a  pri 
vate  interview  could  be  allowed,  but — " 

"A  private  interview  is  not  necessary,"  she  said,  coolly. 
"You  can  remain  where  you  are.  Margeret,  also,  can  re 
main."  She  wrote  a  line  or  two,  and  then  spoke  with 
out  looking  up,  "Will  you  be  so  kind,  Captain  Monroe,  as  to 
come  over  to  the  table?" 

"At  your  service,  my  lady." 

He  did  so,  and  remained  standing  there,  with  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him,  a  curious  light  of  expectancy  in  his  eyes. 

"You  have  endured  everything  but  death  for  me  since 
last  night,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him.  She  spoke  so  low 
Masterson  could  not  hear  it  above  the  beat  of  the  rain  on 
the  window.  But  he  could  see  the  slight  bend  of  Monroe's 
head  and  the  smile  with  which  he  said : 

"Well — since  it  was  for  you !" 

"Oh,  do  not  jest  now,  and  do  not  think  I  shall  allow  it  to 
go  on,"  she  said,appealingly.  "I  have  been  waiting  for  help, 
but  I  shall  wait  no  longer ;"  she  pointed  to  the  paper  on  the 
table,  "Colonel  McVeigh  will  have  a  written  statement  of 
who  did  the  work  just  as  soon  as  I  can  write  it,  and  you 
shall  be  freed." 

"Take  care !"  he  said,  warningly ;  "an  avowal  now  might 
only  incriminate  you — not  free  me.  There  are  complica 
tions  you  can't  be  told — " 

"But  I  must  be  told!"  she  interrupted.  "What  is  there 
concerning  me  which  you  both  conspire  to  hide  ?  He  shall 
free  you,  no  matter  what  the  result  is  to  me ;  did  you  fancy 
I  should  let  you  go  away  under  suspicion?  But,  that  pic 
ture  !  You  must  make  that  clear  to  me.  Listen,  I  will  con- 

25 


382  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

fess  to  you,  too !  I  have  wronged  him — Colonel  McVeigh 
— it  has  been  all  a  mistake.  I  can  never  atone,  but" — and 
her  voice  sank  lower,  "it  was  something  about  that  picture 
made  him  angry  just  now,  the  thought  I  had  given  you  some 
picture.  I — I  can't  have  him  think  that — not  that  you  are 
my  lover." 

"Suppose  it  were  so — would  that  add  to  the  wrongs  you 
speak  of?"  His  voice  was  almost  tender  in  its  gentleness, 
and  his  face  had  a  strange  expression,  as  she  said :  "Yes,  it 
would,  Captain  Jack." 

"You  mean,  then — to  marry  him  ?" 

Something  in  the  tenseness  of  his  tones,  the  strange  look 
of  anxiety  in  his  eyes,  decided  her  answer. 

"I  mean  that  I  have  married  him." 

She  spoke  so  softly  it  was  almost  a  whisper,  but  if  it  had 
been  trumpet-like  he  could  not  have  looked  more  aston 
ished.  His  face  grew  white,  and  he  took  a  step  backward 
frpm  her.  Masterson,  who  noticed  the  movement,  walked 
down  to  the  desk,  where  he  could  hear.  Margeret  was 
nearer  to  them  than  he.  All  he  heard  was  Madame  Caron 
asking  if  Captain  Monroe  would  not  now  agree  that  she 
should  see  the  picture  since  it  was  necessary  to  defend  her 
self. 

But  Monroe  had  gone  back  to  his  chair,  where  he  sat 
looking  at  her  thoughtfully,  and  looking  at  Margeret,  also, 
who  had  remained  near  the  door,  and  gave  no  sign  of  hav 
ing  heard  their  words — had  she  ? 

"No,  Madame  Caron,"  he  said,  quietly,  "if  there  is  any  evi 
dence  in  my  favor  you  can  communicate  to  Colonel  Mc 
Veigh,  I  shall  be  your  debtor,  but  the  picture  is  altogether 
a  personal  affair  of  my  own.  I  will,  if  I  can,  prevent  it  from 
being  used  in  this  case  at  all,  out  of  consideration  for  the 
lady  whom  I  mentioned  before." 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  383 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

—//I,  '  ,. . 

Kenneth  McVeigh  walked  the  floor  of  his  own  room,  with 
the  bitterest  thoughts  of  his  life  for  company.  Loyal  gen 
tleman  that  he  was,  he  was  appalled  at  the  turn  affairs  had 
taken.  It  had  cost  him  a  struggle  to  give  up  faith  in  the 
man  he  had  known  and  liked — but  all  that  was  as  nothing 
compared  to  the  struggle  in  which  his  own  love  fought 
against  him. 

In  that  room  where  death  apparently  stood  on  the  thres 
hold,  and  the  dying  man  had  followed  him  about  the  room 
with  most  terrible,  appealing  eyes,  he  had  heard  but  few  of 
the  words  spoken — all  his  heart  and  brain  were  afire  with  the 
scene  he  had  just  left;  that,  and  the  others  preceding  it! 
Every  word  or  glance  he  had  noticed  between  Monroe  and 
the  woman  he  loved  returned  to  him !  Trifles  light  as  air 
before,  now  overwhelmed  him  with  horrible  suggestions; 
and  her  pleading  for  him  that  morning — all  the  little  arti 
fices,  the  pretended  lightness  with  which  she  asked  a  first 
favor  on  her  wedding  morning — their  wedding  morning! 
for  whatever  she  was  or  was  not,  she  was,  at  least,  his  wife ! 

That  fact  must  be  taken  into  conideration,  he  could  not  set 
it  aside;  her  disgrace  meant  his  disgrace — God!  was  that 
why  she  had  consented  to  the  hurried  marriage? — to  shield 
herself  under  his  name,  and  to  influence  his  favor  for  her 
lover  ? 

The  spirit  of  murder  leaped  in  his  heart  as  he  thought  of 


384  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

it !  He  heard  Gertrude  send  to  the  library  for  Margeret,  and 
he  sent  word  to  Masterson  he  was  detained  and  would  con 
tinue  the  investigation  later.  When  Pluto  returned,  after 
delivering  the  message,  he  inquired  if  Madame  Caron  was, 
yet  in  the  library,  and  Pluto  informed  him  Madame  Caron 
had  gone  to  her  room  some  time  ago;  no  one  was  in  the 
library  now,  the  gentleman  had  gone  back  to  the  cottage. 

He  meant  to  see  her  alone  before  speaking  again  with 
Monroe,  to  know  the  worst,  whatever  it  was,  and  then — 

He  used  a  magnifying  glass  to  study  the  little  picture ;  he 
took  it  from  the  frame  and  examined  the  frame  itself.  The 
statement  of  Monroe  as  to  its  age  seemed  verified.  Certain 
things  in  the  face  were  strange,  but  certain  other  things  were 
wonderfully  like  Judithe  as  a  happy,  care-free  girl — had  she 
ever  been  such  a  girl  ? 

The  chance  that,  after  all,  the  picture  was  not  hers  gave 
him  a  sudden  hope  that  the  other  things,  purely  circumstan 
tial,  might  also  diminish  on  closer  examination ;  the  picture 
had,  to  him,  been  the  strongest  evidence  against  her ;  a  jeal 
ous  fury  had  taken  possession  of  him  at  the  sight  of  it ;  he 
was  conscious  that  his  personal  feelings  unfitted  him  for  the 
judicial  position  forced  upon  him,  and  that  he  must  somehow 
conquer  them  before  continuing  any  examination. 

An  hour  had  passed ;  he  had  decided  the  picture  was  not 
that  of  his  wife,  but  if  Monroe  were  not  her  lover,  why  did 
he  treasure  so  a  likeness  resembling  her?  And  if  she  were 
not  in  love  with  him,  why  ignore  their  former  acquaintance, 
and  why  intercede  for  him  so  persistently  ? 

All  those  thoughts  walked  beside  him  as  he  strode  up 
and  down  the  room,  and  beyond  them  all  was  the  glory  of 
her  eyes  and  the  remembrance  of  her  words :  "Whatever  you 
think  of  me  when  you  know  all,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  love 
you — /  love  you !" 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  385 

They  were  the  words  he  had  waited  for  through  long  days 
and  nights  ;  they  had  come  to  him  at  last,  and  after  all — 

A  knock  sounded  on  the  door  and  Pluto  entered  with  a 
large  sealed  envelope  on  which  his  name  was  written. 

"From  Madame  Caron,  sah;  she  done  tole  me  to  put  it 
in  yo'  own  han',"  he  said. 

When  alone  again  he  opened  the  envelope.  Several 
papers  were  in  it.  The  first  he  unfolded  was  addressed  to 
his  wife  and  the  signature  was  that  of  a  statesman  high  in 
the  confidence  of  the  Northern  people.  It  was  a  letter  of 
gratitude  to  her  for  confidential  work  accomplished  within 
the  Confederate  lines ;  it  was  most  extreme  in  commenda 
tion,  and  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  consideration  shown  her  by 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  Federal  leaders.  It  was  dated 
six  months  before,  showing  that  her  friendship  for  his  ene 
mies  was  not  a  matter  of  days,  but  months. 

There  was  one  newly  written  page  in  her  own  writing. 
He  put  that  aside  to  look  at  last  of  all,  then  locked  the  door 
and  resumed  the  reading  of  the  others. 

And  the  woman  to  whom  they  were  written  moved  rest 
lessly  from  room  to  room,  watching  the  storm  and  replying 
now  and  then  to  the  disconsolate  remarks  of  Evilena,  who 
was  doleful  over  the  fact  that  everybody  was  too  much  occu 
pied  for  conversation.  Kenneth  had  shut  himself  up  en 
tirely,  and  all  the  others  seemed  to  be  in  attendance  on  Mr. 
Loring.  Captain  Masterson  was  in  and  out,  busy  about  his 
own  affairs,  and  not  minding  the  rain  a  particle,  and  she 
was  full  of  questions  concerning  Captain  Monroe,  and  why 
he  had  paid  the  brief  visit  to  the  library. 

Judithe  replied  at  random,  scarcely  hearing  her  chatter, 
and  listening,  listening  each  instant  for  his  step  or  voice  on 
the  stair. 

While  she  stood    there,  looking  out  at    the    low,  dark 


386  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

clouds,  a  step  sounded  in  the  hall  and  she  turned  quickly ;  it 
was  only  Pluto ;  ordinarily  she  would  not  have  noticed  him 
especially,  but  his  eyes  were  directed  to  her  in  so  peculiar  a 
manner  that  she  gave  him  a  second  glance,  and  perceived 
that  he  carried  a  book  she  had  left  on  a  table  in  her  own 
room. 

"Look  like  I  can't  noway  find  right  shelf  fo'  this  book," 
he  said,  with  some  hesitation.  "I  boun'  to  ax  yo'  to  show 
me  whah  it  b'longs." 

She  was  about  to  do  so,  but  when  the  door  of  the  book 
case  opened,  he  handed  her  the  book  instead  of  placing  it 
where  she  directed. 

"Maybe  yo'  put  it  in  thah  fo'  me,"  he  suggested. 

She  looked  at  him,  remembering  she  had  told  Pierson 
he  could  be  trusted,  and  took  the  book  without  a  word. 
Evilena  was  absorbed  in  Juliet's  woes,  and  did  not  look  up. 

Pluto  muttered  a  "thank  yo',"  and  disappeared  along  the 
hall. 

She  took  the  book  into  the  alcove  before  opening  it,  and 
found  there  what  she  had  expected — a  slip  of  paper  with 
some  pencilled  marks.  It  was  a  cipher,  from  which  she 
read,  "All  is  right ;  we  follow  close  on  this  by  another  road.  Be 
ready.  Lincoln" — she  sank  on  her  knees  as  she  read  the  rest 
— "Lincoln  has  issued  the  proclamation  of  emancipation  !" 

It  was  Margeret  who  found  her  there  a  few  minutes  later. 
She  was  still  kneeling  by  the  window,  her  face  covered  by 
her  hands. 

"You  likely  to  catch  cold  down  there,  Madame,"  said  the 
soft  voice.  "I  saw  you  come  in  here  a  good  while  ago,  an' 
I  thought  I'd  come  see  if  I  could  serve  you  some  way." 

Judithe  accepted  the  proffered  hand  and  rose  to  her  feet. 
For  an  instant  Margeret's  arms  had  half  enfolded  her,  and 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  387 

the  soft  color  swept  into  the  woman's  face.    Judithe  looked 
at  her  kindly  and  said  : 

"You  have  already  tried  to  serve  me  today,  Margeret; 
I've  been  thinking  of  it  since,  and  I  wonder  why?" 

"Any  of  the  folks  here  would  be  proud  to  serve  you,  Mad 
ame  Caron,"  said  the  woman,  lapsing  again  into  calm  reti 
cence. 

Judithe  looked  at  her  and  wondered  what  would  become 
of  her  and  the  many  like  her,  now  that  freedom  was  declared 
for  the  slaves.  She  could  not  understand  why  she  had  de 
nied  seeing  her  in  the  corridor,  for  they  had  met  there,  al 
most  touched!  Perhaps  she  was  some  special  friend  of 
Pluto's,  and  because  of  that  purchase  of  the  child — 

"I  leave  tomorrow  for  Savannah,"  said  Judithe,  kindly. 
"Come  to  my  room  this  evening,  and  if  there  is  anything  I 
can  do  for  you — " 

Margeret's  hands  were  clasped  tightly  at  the  question, 
and  those  strange,  haunting  eyes  of  hers  seemed  to  reach 
the  girl's  soul. 

"There  is  one  thing,"  she  half  whispered,  "not  now,  may 
be,  not  right  away !  But  you've  bought  Loringwood,  and 
I — I  lived  there  too  many  years  to  be  satisfied  to  live  away 
from  it.  They — Miss  Gertrude — wouldn't  ask  much  for  me 
now,  and — " 

"I  see,"  and  Judithe  wished  she  could  tell  her  that  there 
would  never  be  buying  or  selling  of  her  again — that  the  law 
of  the  land  had  declared  her  free !  "I  promise  you,  Loring 
wood  shall  be  your  home  some  day,  if  you  wish." 

"God  forever  bless  you !"  whispered  Margeret,  and  then 
she  pushed  aside  the  curtains  and  went  through  the  library 
and  up  the  stairs,  and  Judithe  watched  her,  thoughtfully 
wondering  why  any  slave  should  cling  to  a  home  where 
Matthew  Loring's  will  had  been  law.  Was  it  true  that  cer- 


388  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

tain  slavish  natures  in  -women — whether  of  Caucasian  or 
African  blood — loved  best  the  men  who  were  tyrants  ?  Was 
it  a  relic  of  inherited  tendencies  when  all  women  of  whatever 
complexion  were  but  slaves  to  their  masters — called  hus 
bands  ? 

But  something  in  the  delicate,  sad  face  of  Margeret  gave 
silent  negative  to  the  question.  Whatever  the  affection  cen 
tered  in  Loringwood,  she  could  not  believe  it  in  any  way 
low  or  unworthy. 

As  she  passed  along  the  upper  hall  Pluto  was  on  the 
landing. 

"Any  visitors  today  through  all  this  storm?"  she  asked, 
carelessly. 

"No  out  an'  out  company,"  he  said,  glancing  around.  "A 
boy  from  the  Harris  plantation  did  stop  in  out  o'  the  rain, 
jest  now.  He  got  the  lend  of  a  coat,  an'  left  his  wet  one, 
that  how — " 

He  looked  anxiously  at  the  slip  of  paper  yet  in  her 
ringers.  She  smiled  and  entered  her  own  room,  where 
everything  was  prepared  for  her  journey  the  following  day. 
She  glanced  about  grimly  and  wondered  where  that  journey 
would  end — it  depended  so  much  on  the  temper  of  the  man 
who  was  now  reading  the  evidence  against  her — the  proof 
absolute  that  she  was  the  Federal  agent  sought  for  vainly 
by  the  Confederate  authorities.  She  had  told  him  nothing 
of  the  motive  prompting  her  to  the  work — it  had  been 
merely  a  plain  statement  of  work  accomplished. 

Her  door  was  left  ajar  and  she  listened  nervously  for  his 
step,  his  voice.  It  seemed  hours  since  she  had  sent  him  the 
message — the  time  had  really  not  been  long  except  in  her 
imagination.  And  the  little  slip  of  paper  just  received  held  a 
threat  directed  towards  him !  In  an  hour,  at  most,  the  men 
she  had  sent  for  would  be  there ;  she  had  laid  the  plan  for  his 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  389 

ruin,  and  now  was  wild  to  think  she  could  noways  save  him  ! 
If  she  had  dared  to  go  to  him,  plead  with  him  to  leave  at 
once,  persuade  him  through  his  love  for  her — but  it  seemed 
ages  too  late  for  that !  And  she  could  only  await  his  sum 
mons,  which  she  expected  every  moment ;  she  could  not  even 
conjecture  what  he  meant  to  do. 

Neither  could  Captain  Masterson,  who  stood  in  Mc 
Veigh's  room,  staring  incredulously  at  his  superior  officer. 

"Colonel,  are  you  serious  in  this  matter?  You  actually 
mean  to  let  Captain  Monroe  go  free?" 

"Absolutely  free,"  said  McVeigh,  who  was  writing  an 
order,  and  continued  writing  without  looking  up.  "I  under 
stand  your  surprise,  but  we  arrested  an  innocent  man." 

"I  don't  mean  to  question  your  judgment,  Colonel,  but 
the  evidence — " 

"The  evidence  was  circumstantial.  That  evidence  has 
been  refuted  by  facts  not  to  be  ignored."  Masterson  looked 
at  him  inquiringly,  a  look  comprehended  by  McVeigh,  who 
touched  the  bell  for  Pluto. 

"I  must  have  time  to  consider  before  I  decide  what  to  do 
with  those  facts,"  he  continued.  "I  shall  know  tonight." 

"And  in  the  meantime  what  are  we  to  do  with  the  squad 
from  down  the  river?"  asked  Masterson,  grimly.  "They 
have  just  arrived  to  take  him  for  court  martial;  they  are 
waiting  your  orders." 

"I  will  have  their  instructions  ready  in  an  hour." 

"They  bring  the  report  of  some  definite  action  on  the 
slavery  question  by  the  Federal  authorities,"  remarked  Mas 
terson,  with  a  smile  of  derision.  "Lincoln  has  proclaimed 
freedom  for  our  slaves,  the  order  is  to  go  into  effect  the  first 
of  the  year,  unless  we  promise  to  be  good,  lay  down  our 
arms,  and  enter  the  Union." 


390  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"The  first  of  the  year  is  three  months  away,  plenty  of  time 
to  think  it  over;"  he  locked  his  desk  and  arose.  "Excuse 
me  now,  Phil,"  he  said,  kindly,  "I  must  go  down  and  speak 
with  Captain  Monroe."  He  paused  at  the  door,  and  Mas- 
terson  noticed  that  his  face  was  very  pale  and  his  lips  had 
a  strange,  set  expression.  Whatever  task  he  had  before  him 
was  not  easy  to  face!  "You  might  help  me  in  this,"  he 
added,  "by  telling  my  mother  we  must  make  what  amends 
we  can  to  him — if  any  amends  are  possible  for  such  indig 
nities." 

He  went  slowly  down  the  stairs  and  entered  the  library. 
Monroe  was  wiping  the  rain  from  his  coat  collar  and  hold 
ing  a  dripping  hat  at  arm's  length. 

"Since  you  insist  on  my  afternoon  calls,  Colonel  Mc 
Veigh,  I  wish  you  would  arrange  them  with  some  regard  to 
the  elements,"  he  remarked.  "I  was  at  least  dry,  and  safe, 
where  I  was." 

But  there  was  no  answering  light  in  McVeigh's  eyes. 
He  had  been  fighting  a  hard  battle  with  himself,  and  the  end 
was  not  yet. 

"Captain  Monroe,  it  is  many  hours  too  late  for  apologies 
to  you,"  he  said,  gravely,  "but  I  do  apologize,  and — you  are 
at  liberty." 

"Going  to  turn  me  out  in  a  storm  like  this?"  inquired  his 
late  prisoner,  but  McVeigh  held  out  his  hand. 

"Not  so  long  as  you  will  honor  my  house  by  remaining," 
and  Monroe,  after  one  searching  glance,  took  the  offered 
hand  in  silence. 

McVeigh  tried  to  speak,  but  turned  and  walked  across  to 
the  window.  After  a  moment  he  came  back. 

"I  know,  now,  you  could  have  cleared  yourself  by  speak 
ing,"  he  said ;  "yes,  I  know  all,"  as  Monroe  looked  at  him 
questioningly.  "I  know  you  have  borne  disgrace  and  risked 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  391 

death  for  a  chivalrous  instinct.  May  I" — he  hesitated  as  he 
realized  he  was  now  asking  a  favor  of  the  man  he  had  in 
sulted — "may  I  ask  that  you  remain  silent  to  all  but  me,  and 
that  you  pardon  the  injustice  done  you?  I  did  not  know — " 

"Oh,  the  silence  is  understood,"  said  Monroe,  "and  as 
for  the  rest — we  will  forget  it;  the  evidence  was  enough  to 
hang  a  man  these  exciting  times." 

"And  you  ran  the  risk?  Captain,  you  may  wonder  that 
I  ask  your  silence,  but  you  talked  with  her  here ;  you  proba 
bly  know  that  to  me  she  is — " 

Monroe  raised  his  hand  in  protest. 

"I  don't  know  anything,  Colonel.  I  heard  you  were  a 
benedict,  but  it  may  be  only  hearsay ;  I  was  not  a  witness ;  if 
I  had  been  you  would  not  have  found  me  a  silent  one !  But 
it  is  too  late  now,  and  we  had  better  not  talk  about  it,"  he 
said,  anxious  to  get  away  from  the  strained,  unhappy  eyes  of 
the  man  he  had  always  known  as  the  most  care-free  of  ca 
dets.  "With  your  permission  I  will  pay  my  respects  to  your 
sister,  whom  I  noticed  across  the  hall,  but  in  the  meantime, 
I  don't  know  a  thing !" 

As  he  crossed  the  hall  Gertrude  Loring  descended  the 
stairs  and  paused,  looking  after  him  wonderingly,  and  then 
turned  into  the  library.  Colonel  McVeigh  was  seated  at 
the  table  again,  his  face  buried  in  his  hands. 

"Kenneth!" 

He  raised  his  head,  and  she  hesitated,  staring  at  him. 
"Kenneth,  you  are  ill ;  you — " 

"No;  it  is  really  nothing,"  he  said,  as  he  rose,  "I  am  a 
trifle  tired,  I  believe;  absurd,  isn't  it?  and — and  very  busy 
just  now,  so — " 

"Oh,  I  shan't  detain  you  a  moment,"  she  said,  hastily, 
"but  I  saw  Captain  Monroe  in  the  hall,  and  I  was  so  amazed 
when  Phil  told  us  you  had  released  him." 


392  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

"I  knew  you  would  be,  but  he  is  an  innocent  man,  and 
his  arrest  was  all  a  mistake.  Pray,  tell  mother  for  me  that 
I  have  apologized  to  Captain  Monroe,  and  he  is  to  be  our 
guest  until  tomorrow.  I  am  sure  she  will  be  pleased  to  hear 
it." 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  agreed  Gertrude,  "but  Kenneth, 
the  guard  has  arrived,  and  whom  will  they  take  in  his  place 
for  court-martial?" 

She  spoke  lightly,  but  there  was  a  subtle  meaning  back 
of  her  words.  He  felt  it,  and  met  her  gaze  with  a  sombre 
smile. 

"Perhaps  myself,"  he  answered,  quietly. 

."Oh,  Kenneth !" 

"There,  there !"  he  said,  reassuringly ;  "don't  worry  about 
the  future,  what  is,  is  enough  for  today,  little  girl." 

He  had  opened  the  door  for  her  as  though  anxious  to  be 
alone ;  she  understood,  and  was  almost  in  the  hall  when  the 
other  door  into  the  library  opened,  and  glancing  over  her 
shoulder  she  saw  Judithe  standing  there  gazing  after  her, 
with  a  peculiar  look. 

She  glanced  up  at  Kenneth  McVeigh,  and  saw  his  face 
suddenly  grow  white,  and  stern ;  then  the  door  closed  on 
her,  and  those  two  were  left  alone  together.  She  stood 
outside  the  door  for  a  full  minute,  amazed  at  the  strange 
look  in  his  eyes,  and  in  hers,  as  they  faced  each  other,  and 
as  she  moved  away  she  wondered  at  the  silence  there — 
neither  of  them  had  spoken. 

They  looked  at  each  other  as  the  door  closed,  a  world  of 
appeal  in  her  eyes,  but  there  was  no  response  in  his ;  a  few 
hours  ago  she  meant  all  of  life  to  him — and  now  ! — 

With  a  quick  sigh  she  turned  and  crossed  to  the  window ; 
drawing  back  the  curtain  she  looked  out,  but  all  the  heavens 
seemed  weeping  with  some  endless  woe.  The  light  of  the 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  393 

lamp  was  better,  and  she  drew  the  curtains  close,  and  faced 
him  again. 

"You  have  read— all  ?" 

He  bent  his  head  in  assent. 

"And  Captain  Monroe  ?" 

"Captain  Monroe  is  at  liberty.  I  have  accepted  your 
confession,  and  acted  upon  it." 

"You  accept  that  part  of  my  letter,  but  not  my  other  re 
quest,"  she  said,  despairingly.  "I  begged  that  you  make 
some  excuse  and  leave  for  your  command  at  once — today — 
do  you  refuse  to  heed  that  ?" 

"I  do,"  he  said,  coldly. 

"Is  it  on  my  account?"  she  demanded;  "if  so,  put  me 
under  arrest ;  send  me  to  one  of  the  forts ;  do  anything  to 
assure  yourself  of  my  inability  to  work  against  your  cause, 
though  I  promise  you  I  never  shall  again.  Oh,  I  know 
you  do  not  trust  me,  and  I  shan't  ask  you  to  ;  I  only  ask  you 
to  send  me  anywhere  you  like,  if  you  will  only  start  for  your 
command  at  once ;  for  your  own  sake  I  beg  you ;  for  your 
own  sake  you  must  go !" 

All  of  pleading  was  in  her  eyes  and  voice;  her  hands 
were  clasped  in  the  intensity  of  her  anxiety.  But  he  only 
shook  his  head  as  he  looked  down  in  the  beautiful,  beseech 
ing  face. 

"For  your  sake  I  shall  remain,"  he  said,  coldly. 

"Kenneth !" 

"Your  anxiety  that  I  leave  shows  that  the  plots  you  con 
fessed  are  not  the  only  ones  you  are  aware  of,"  he  said,  con 
trolling  his  voice  with  an  effort,  and  speaking  quietly. 
"You  are  my  wife ;  for  the  plots  of  the  future  I  must  take 
the  responsibility,  prevent  them  if  I  can;  shield  you  if  I 
cannot." 

"No,  no!"  and  she  clasped  his  arm,  pleadingly;  "believe 


394  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

me,  Kenneth,  there  will  be  no  more  plots,  not  after  today — " 

"Ah !"  and  he  drew  back  from  her  touch ;  "not  after  to 
day  !  then  there  is  some  further  use  you  have  for  my  house 
as  a  rendezvous?  Do  you  suppose  I  will  go  at  once  and 
leave  my  mother  and  sister  to  the  danger  of  your  intrigues  ?" 

"No!  there  shall  be  no  danger  for  any  one  if  you  will 
only  go,"  she  promised,  wildly ;  "Kenneth,  it  is  you  I  want 
to  save ;  it  is  the  last  thing  I  shall  ever  ask  of  you.  Go,  go ! 
no  more  harm  shall  come  to  your  people,  I  promise  you, 
I—" 

"You  promise !"  and  he  turned  on  her  with  a  fury  from 
which  she  shrank.  "The  promise  of  a  women  who  allowed 
a  loyal  friend  to  suffer  disgrace  for  her  fault ! — the  premise 
of  one  who  has  abused  the  affection  and  hospitality  of  the 
women  you  assure  protection  for !  A  spy !  A  traitor !  Yoii, 
the  woman  I  worshipped !  God !  What  cursed  fancy  led 
you  to  risk  life,  love,  honor,  everything  worth  having,  for 
a  fanatical  fight  against  one  of  two  political  factions  ?" 

He  dropped  into  a  chair  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 
As  he  did  so  a  handkerchief  in  his  pocket  caught  in  the 
fastening  of  his  cuff,  as  he  let  his  hand  fall  the  'kerchief  was 
dragged  from  the  pocket,  and  with  it  the  little  oval  frame 
over  which  he  had  been  jealous  for  an  hour,  and  concern 
ing  which  he  had  not  yet  had  an  explanation. 

It  rolled  towards  her,  and  with  a  sudden  movement  she 
caught  it,  and  the  next  instant  the  dark,  girlish  face  lay 
uncovered  in  her  hand. 

She  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  then  something  of  strength 
seemed  to  come  to  her  as  she  looked  at  it.  Her  eyes  dilated, 
and  she  drew  a  long  breath,  as  she  turned  and  faced  him 
again  with  both  hands  clasped  over  her  bosom,  and  the 
open  picture  pressed  there.  All  the  tears  and  pleading  were 
gone  from  her  face  and  voice,  as  she  answered : 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  395 

-  '    0 

"Because  to  that  political  question  there  is  a  background, 
shadowed,  shameful,  awful!  Through  the  shadows  of  it 
one  can  hear  the  clang  of  chains ;  can  see  the  dumb  misery 
of  fettered  women  packed  in  the  holds  of  your  slave  ships, 
carried  in  chains  to  the  land  of  your  free !  From  the  day 
the  first  slave  was  burned  at  the  stake  on  Manhattan  Island 
by  your  Christian  forefathers,  until  now,  when  they  are 
meeting  your  men  in  battle,  fighting  you  to  the  death,  there 
is  an  unwritten  record  that  is  full  of  horror,  generations  of 
dumb  servitude!  Did  you  think  they  would  keep  silence 
forever  ?" 

He  arose  from  the  chair,  staring  at  her  in  amazement; 
those  arguments  were  so  foreign  to  all  he  had  known  of  the 
dainty  woman,  patrician,  apparently,  to  her  finger  tips. 
How  had  she  ever  been  led  to  sympathize  with  those  rabid, 
mistaken  theories  of  the  North  ? 

"You  have  been  misled  by  extravagant  lies !"  he  said, 
sternly ;  "abuses  such  as  you  denounce  no  longer  exist ;  if 
they  ever  did  it  was  when  the  temper  of  the  times  was  rude 
—half  savage  if  you  will— when  men  were  rough  and  harsh 
with  each  other,  therefore,  with  their  belongings." 

"Therefore,  with  their  belongings  !"  she  repeated,  bitterly, 
"and  in  your  own  age  all  that  is  changed  ?" 

"Certainly." 

"Certainly!"  she  agreed.  "Slaves  are  no  longer  burned 
for  insubordination,  because  masters  have  grown  too  wise 
to  burn  money!  But  they  have  some  laws  they  use  now 
instead  of  the  torch  and  the  whip  of  those  old  crude  days. 
From  their  book  of  laws  they  read  the  commandment: 
'Go  you  out  then,  and  of  the  heathen  about  you,  buy  bondmen 
and  bondmaids  that  they  be  servants  of  your  household;'  and 
again  it  is  commanded:  'Servants  be  obedient  unto  your 
masters  I'  The  torch  is  no  longer  needed  when  those  fet- 


396  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

tered  souls  are  taught  God  has  decreed  their  servitude.  God 
has  cursed  them  before  they  were  born,  and  under  that  curse 
they  must  bend  forever!" 

"You  doubt  even  the  religion  of  my  people?"  he  de 
manded. 

"Yes !" 

"You  doubt  the  divinity  of  those  laws  ?" 

"Yes !" 

"Judithe!" 

"Yes !"  she  repeated,  a  certain  dauntless  courage  in  her 
voice  and  bearing.  She  was  no  longer  the  girl  he  had  loved 
and  married ;  she  was  a  strange,  wild,  beautiful  creature, 
whose  tones  he  seemed  to  hear  for  the  first  time.  "A  thou 
sand  times — yes !  I  doubt  any  law  and  every  law  shackling' 
liberty  of  thought  and  freedom  of  people !  And  the  poison 
of  that  accursed  system  has  crept  into  your  own  blood  un 
til,  even  to  me,  you  pretend,  and  deny  the  infamy  that  ex 
ists  today,  and  of  which  you  are  aware !" 

"Infamy!  How  dare  you  use  that  word?"  and  his  eyes 
flamed  with  anger  at  the  accusation,  but  she  raised  her  hand, 
and  spoke  more  quietly. 

"You  remember  the  story  you  heard  here  today — the 
story  of  your  guest  and  guardian,  who  sold  the  white  child 
of  his  own  brother  ?  and  the  day  when  that  was  done  is  not 
so  long  past !  It  is  so  close  that  the  child  is  now  only  a 
girl  of  twenty-three,  the  girl  who  was  educated  by  her 
father's  brother  that  she  might  prove  a  more  desirable  addi 
tion  to  your  bondslaves !" 

"God  in  heaven !"  he  muttered,  as  he  drew  back  and 
stared  at  her.  "Your  knowledge  of  those  things,  of  the 
girl's  age,  which  /  did  not  know !  Where  have  you  gained 
it  all?  When  you  heard  so  much  you  must  know  I  was 
not  aware  of  the  purchase  of  the  girl,  but  that  does  not 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  397 

matter  now.  Answer  my  questions!  Your  words,  your 
manner ;  what  do  they  mean  ?  What  has  inspired  this  fury 
in  you  ?  Answer — I  command  you  !" 

"  'Servants,  be  obedient  unto  your  masters !"  she  quoted, 
with  a  strange  smile.  "My  words  oppress  you,  possibly, 
because  so  many  women  are  speaking  through  my  lips,  the 
women  who  for  generations  have  thought  and  suffered  and 
been  doomed  to  silence,  to  bear  the  children  of  men  they 
hated ;  to  have  the  most  sacred  thing  of  life,  mother-love, 
desecrated,  according  to  the  temper  of  their  masters ;  to 
dread  bringing  into  the  world  even  the  children  of  love,  lest, 
whether  white  or  black,  they  prove  cattle  for  the  slave 
market !" 

"Judithe !" 

He  caught  her  hand  as  though  to  force  silence  on  her  by 
the  strength  of  his  own  horror  and  protest.  She  closed 
her  eyes  for  an  instant  as  he  touched  her,  and  then  drew 
away  to  leave  a  greater  space  between  them,  as  she  said : 

"All  those  women  are  back  of  me!  I  have  never  lived 
one  hour  out  of  the  shadow  of  their  presence.  Their  cause 
is  my  cause,  and  when  I  forget  them,  may  God  forget  me !" 

"Your  cause ! — my  wife !"  he  half  whispered,  as  he  dropped 
her  hand,  and  the  blue  eyes  swept  her  over  with  a  glance 
of  horror.  "Who  are  you  that  their  cause  should  be  yours  ?" 

"Until  this  morning  I  was  Madame  La  Marquise  de 
Caron,"  she  said,  making  a  half  mocking  inclination  of  her 
head  ;  "in  the  bill  of  sale  you  read  today  I  was  named  Rhoda 
Larue,  the  slave  girl  who — " 

"No!"  He  caught  her  fiercely  by  the  shoulder,  and  his 
face  had  a  murderous  look  as  he  bent  above  her,  "don't  dare 
to  say  it !  You  are  mad  with  the  desire  to  hurt  me  because 
I  resent  your  sympathy  with  the  North !  But,  dear,  your 
madness  has  made  you  something  more  terrible  than  you 

26 


398  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

realize!  Judithe,  for  God's  sake,  never  say  that  word 
again !" 

"For  God's  sake,  that  is,  for  truth's  sake,  I  am  telling 
you  the  thing  that  is !" 

He  half  staggered  to  the  table,  and  stood  there  looking  at 
her;  her  gaze  met  his  own,  and  all  the  tragedy  of  love  and 
death  was  in  that  regard. 

"Youl"  he  said,  as  though  it  was  impossible  to  believe 
the  thing  he  heard.  "You — of  all  women  !  God ! — it  is  too 
horrible!  What  right  have  you  to  tell  me  now?  I  was 
happy  each  moment  I  thought  you  loved  me;  even  my 
anger  against  you  was  all  jealousy !  I  was  willing  to  forgive 
even  the  spy  work,  shield  you,  trust  you,  love  you — but — 
now — " 

He  paused  with  his  hand  over  his  eyes  as  though  to  shut 
out  the  sight  of  her,  she  was  so  beautiful  as  she  stood  there 
— so  appealing.  The  dark  eyes  were  wells  of  sadness  as  she 
looked  at  him.  She  stood  as  one  waiting  judgment  and 
hoping  for  no  mercy. 

"You  have  punished  me  for  a  thing  that  was  not  my 
fault,"  he  continued.  "I  destroyed  it — the  accursed  paper, 
and—" 

"And  by  destroying  it  you  gave  me  back  to  the  Loring 
estate,"  she  said,  quietly.  All  the  passion  had  burned  itself 
out;  she  spoke  wearily  and  without  emotion.  "That  is,  I 
have  become  again,  the  property  of  my  half  sister,  my 
father's  daughter!  Are  the  brutal  possibilities  of  your  so 
cial  institution  so  very  far  in  the  past?" 

He  could  only  stare  at  her ;  the  horror  of  it  was  all  too 
sickening,  and  that  man  who  was  dying  in  the  other  room 
had  caused  it  all;  he  had  moved  them  as  puppets  in  the 
game  of  life,  a  malignant  Fate,  who  had  made  all  this  pos 
sible. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  •  399 

"Now,  will  you  go?"  she  asked,  pleadingly.  "You  may 
trust  me  now ;  I  have  told  you  all." 

But  he  did  not  seem  to  hear  her;  only  that  one  horrible 
thought  of  what  she  was  to  him  beat  against  his  brain  and 
dwarfed  every  other  consideration. 

"And  you — married  me,  knowing  this?" 

"I  married  you  because  I  knew  it,"  she  said,  despairingly. 
"I  thought  you  and  Matthew  Loring  equally  guilty — equal 
ly  deserving  of  punishment.  I  fought  against  my  own  feel 
ings — my  own  love  for  you — " 

"Love !" 

"Love — love  always!  I  loved  you  in  Paris,  when  I 
thought  hate  was  all  you  deserved  from  me.  I  waited  three 
years.  I  told  myself  it  had  been  only  a  girlish  fancy — not 
love!  I  pledged  myself  to  work  for  the  union  of  these 
states  and  against  the  cause  championed  by  Kenneth  Mc 
Veigh  and  Matthew  Loring;  for  days  and  nights,  weeks 
and  months,  I  have  worked  for  my  mother's  people  and 
against  the  two  men  whose  names  were  always  linked 
together  in  my  remembrance.  The  thought  became  a 
monomania  with  me.  Well,  you  know  how  it  is  ended! 
Every  plan  against  you  became  hateful  to  me  from  the 
moment  I  heard  your  voice  again.  But  the  plans  had  to  go 
on  though  they  were  built  on  my  heart.  As  for  the  mar 
riage,  I  meant  to  write  you  after  I  had  left  the  country,  and 
tell  you  who  you  had  given  your  name  to.  Then" — and  all 
of  despair  was  in  her  voice — "then  I  learned  the  truth  too 
late.  I  heard  your  words  when  that  paper  was  given  to  you 
here,  and  I  loved  you.  I  realized  that  I  had  never  ceased  to 
love  you;  that  I  never  should!" 

"The  woman  who  is  my — wife!"  he  muttered.  "Oh, 
God!—" 

"No  one  need  ever  know  that,"  she  said  earnestly.     "I 


400  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

will  go  away,  unless  you  give  me  over  to  the  authorities  as 
the  spy.  For  the  wrong  I  have  done  you  I  will  make 
any  atonement — any  expiation — " 

"There  is  no  atonement  you  could  make."  he  answered, 
steadily.  "There  is  no  forgiveness  possible." 

"I  know,"  she  said,  whisperingly,  as  if  afraid  to  trust  her 
voice  aloud,  "I  know  you  could  never  forgive  me.  I — I  do 
not  ask  it ;  only,  Kenneth,  a  few  hours  ago  we  promised  to 
love  each  other  always,"  her  voice  broke  for  an  instant  and 
then  she  went  on,  "I  shall  keep  that  promise  wherever  I 
go,  and — that  is  all — I  think — " 

She  had  paused  beside  the  table,  where  he  sat,  with  his 
head  buried  in  his  hands. 

"I  give  you  back  the  wedding  ring,"  she  continued,  slip 
ping  it  from  her  finger,  but  he  did  not  speak  or  move.  She 
kissed  the  little  gold  circlet  and  laid  it  beside  him.  "I  am 
going  now,"  she  said,  steadily  as  she  could ;  "I,  ask  for  no 
remembrance,  no  forgiveness ;  but — have  you  no  word  ol 
good-bye  for  me? — not  one?  It  is  forever,  Kenneth — 
Kenneth !" 

Her  last  word  was  almost  a  scream,  for  a  shot  had 
sounded  just  outside  the  window,  and  there  was  the  rush  of 
feet  on  the  veranda  and  the  crash  of  arms. 

"Go!  Go  at  once!"  she  said,  grasping  his  arm.  "They 
will  take  you  prisoner — they  will — " 

"So !"  he  said,  rising  and  reaching  for  the  sword  on  the 
rack  near  him ;  "this  is  one  of  the  plots  you  did  not  reveal 
to  me ;  some  of  your  Federal  friends !" 

"Oh,  I  warned  you!  I  begged  you  to  go,"  she  said, 
pleadingly ;  again  she  caught  his  arm  as  he  strode  towards 
the  veranda,  but  he  flung  himself  loose  with  an  angry  ex 
clamation  : 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  401 

"Let  your  friends  look  to  themselves,"  he  said,  grimly. 
"My  own  guard  is  here  to  receive  them  today." 

As  he  tore  aside  the  curtains  and  opened  the  glass  door 
she  flung  herself  in  front  of  him.  On  the  steps  and  on  the 
lawn  men  were  struggling,  and  shots  were  being  fired.  Men 
were  remounting  their  horses  in  hot  haste  and  a  few  minutes 
later  were  clattering  down  the  road,  leaving  one  dead 
stranger  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  But  for  his  presence  it 
would  all  have  seemed  but  a  tumultuous  vision  of  grey- 
garbed  combatants. 

It  was,  perhaps,  ten  minutes  later  when  Kenneth  Mc 
Veigh  re-entered  the  library.  All  was  vague  and  confused 
in  his  mind  as  to  what  had  occurred  there  in  the  curtained 
alcove.  She  had  flung  herself  in  front  of  him  with  her  arms 
about  him  as  the  door  opened ;  there  had  been  two  shots  in 
quick  succession,  one  of  them  had  shattered  the  glass,  and 
the  other — 

He  remembered  tearing  himself  from  her  embrace  as  she 
clung  to  him,  and  he  remembered  she  had  sunk  with  a  moan 
to  the  floor;  at  the  time  he  thought  her  attitude  and  cry 
had  meant  only  despair  at  her  failure  to  stop  him,  but,  per 
haps — 

He  found  her  in  the  same  place ;  the  oval  portrait  was 
open  in  her  hand,  as  though  her  last  look  had  been  given  to 
the  pretty  mother,  whose  memory  she  had  cherished,  and 
whose  race  she  had  fought  for. 

Margeret  was  crouched  beside  her,  silent  as  ever,  her 
dark  eyes  strange,  unutterable  in  expression,  were  fixed  on 
the  beautiful  face,  but  the  stray  bullet  had  done  its  work 
quickly — she  had  been  quite  dead  when  Margeret  reached 

her. 

***** 

Monroe  told  McVeigh  the  true  story  of  the  portrait  that 


402  THE  BONDWOMAN. 

night.  The  two  men  sat  talking  until  the  dawn  broke.  Del- 
aven  was  admitted  to  the  conference  long  enough  to  hear 
certain  political  reasons  why  the  marriage  of  that  morning 
should  continue  to  remain  a  secret,  and  when  the  mistress 
of  Loringwood  was  laid  to  rest  under  the  century-old 
cedars,  it  was  as  Judithe,  Marquise  de  Caron. 

In  settling  up  the  estate  of  Matthew  Loring,  who  died  a 
few  days  later,  speechless  to  the  last,  Judge  Clarkson  had 
the  unpleasant  task  of  informing  Gertrude  that  for  nearly 
twenty  years  one  of  the  slaves  supposed  to  belong  to  her 
had  been  legally  free.  Evidence  was  found  establishing 
the  fact  that  Tom  Loring  had  given  freedom  to  Margeret 
and  her  child  a  few  days  previous  to  that  last,  fatal  ride  of 
his.  Matthew  Loring  had  evidently  disapproved  and  sup 
pressed  the  knowledge. 

Gertrude  made  slight  comment  on  the  affair,  convinced 
as  she  was  that  the  woman  was  much  better  off  in  their 
household  than  dependent  on  herself,  and  was  frankly  as 
tonished  that  Margeret  returned  at  once  to  Loringwood, 
and  never  left  it  again  for  the  three  remaining  years  of  her 
life. 

Gertrude  was  also  surprised  at  the  sudden  interest  of 
Kenneth  in  her  former  bondwoman,  and  when  the  silent 
octoroon  was  found  dead  beside  the  tomb  of  her  master,  it 
was  Kenneth  McVeigh  who  arranged  that  she  be  placed 
near  the  beautiful  stranger  who  had  dwelt  among  them  for 
awhile. 

A  year  after  the  war  ended  Gertrude,  the  last  of  the  once 
dominant  Lorings,  married  an  Alabama  man,  and  left  Car 
olina,  to  the  great  regret  of  Mrs.  Judge  Clarkson  and  sweet 
Evilena  Delaven.  They  felt  a  grievance  against  Kenneth 
for  his  indifference  in  the  matter,  and  were  disconsolate 
for  years  over  his  persistent  bachelorhood. 


THE  BONDWOMAN.  403 

When  he  finally  did  marry,  his  wife  was  a  pretty  little 
woman,  who  was  a  relative  of  Jack  Monroe,  and  totally 
different  from  either  Gertrude  or  Judithe  Loring.  Jack 
Monroe,  who  was  Major  Monroe  at  the  close  of  the  war, 
makes  yearly  hunting  trips  to  the  land  of  the  Salkahatchie, 
and  when  twitted  concerning  his  state  of  single  blessedness, 
declares  he  is  only  postponing  matrimony  until  Delaven's 
youngest  daughter  grows  up,  but  the  youngest  has  been 
superseded  by  a  younger  one  several  times  since  he  first 
made  the  announcement. 

The  monument  planned  by  Judithe  has  existed  for  many 
years ;  but  only  a  few  remember  well  the  builder ;  she  has 
become  a  misty  memory — part  of  a  romance  the  older  peo 
ple  tell.  She  was  a  noted  beauty  of  France  and  she  died  to 
save  General  McVeigh,  who  was  young,  handsome,  and,  it 
was  said,  her  lover.  He  never  after  her  death  was  heard  to 
speak  her  name  and  did  not  marry  until  twenty  years  later — 
what  more  apt  material  for  a  romance  ?  None  of  them  ever 
heard  of  her  work  for  the  union  of  the  states. 

But  when  the  local  historians  tell  of  the  former  grandeur 
of  the  Lorings,  the  gay,  reckless,  daring  spirits  among 
them,  and  end  the  list  with  handsome  Tom,  there  are  two 
veterans,  one  of  the  blue  and  the  other  of  the  grey,  who 
know  that  the  list  did  not  end  there,  and  that  the  most  bril 
liant,  most  daring,  most  remarkable  spirit  of  them  all,  was 
the  one  of  their  blood,  who  was  born  a  slave. 

THE    END. 


DATE  DUE 


FT     -»     '/, 

bfcb       £         t* 

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1974 

MAR 

20  1975 

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9  1975 

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GAYLORD 

PRINTED  IN  U    S    A 

UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    001  433  842    o 


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